#i would start crying instantly bc he’s only only only ever gentle and sweet. he refuses to bite back. it’s so frustrating!!!
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 11 months ago
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I think he’d like it more if you did bite back I think he loves taming people. Like how only He could deal with Gojo. He doesn’t mind you biting back like an animal cause the second you become pliant he’ll know he won. I love the image of him just following you around listening to you bitch about him and he's just smiling cause so what if you're mad at him? At least you're thinking about him. I think he wouldn't be able to handle nonchalance it would make him go crazy. Feel however you feel about him but at least make sure to feel something. I don't think he cares if you leave teeth marks in him cause at least they're your teeth marks.
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REMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
I FEEL SICK TO MY STOMACH NO ONE GETS ME THE WAY YOU DO IM LYING ON THE FLOOR AND BITING MY FIST.,…..,
ok so first of all. just picture me screaming this to you at the top of my lungs: YOU GET ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT YOU GET IT YOU GET IT THAT’S EXACTLY IT!!!! he LOVES taming people. he loves how difficult you get because it makes your rare bouts of softness so much more valuable. it really is like having a feral pet who hisses and bites you and scratches and scratches but then they lick the wound and you’re like 🥺🥺🥺🥺 awww….. that’s geto with you. he’s endlessly patient!! he loves you so dearly!!! he just thinks you’re the sweetest little thing even when you’re trying to make him mad. but you never could!! he could never be mad at his angel!!
I don't think he cares if you leave teeth marks in him cause at least they're your teeth marks.
^ rem im not joking when i say i had a PHYSICAL reaction to this at least one of my lungs collapsed. you’re so RIGHT. i’m holding your hand so tightly!!! you always always get it!!!! i think he even feels a sense of pride knowing you’d sink your teeth into him, that all this abundance of emotion is directed at him — you’re so so right rem!! he’d hate it if you were nonchalant or ignored him entirely but he doesn’t mind hatred. i think he even welcomes it.
i think a part of him is convinced that you’ll come around, too — that even though you hate him now you’ll be melting into his arms soon enough. he enjoys the violence but i think he enjoys the idea of the softness to come even more!! and the idea just gets sweeter and sweeter the more you bite. i don’t think anything makes him feel as overjoyed as finally getting to see you relax, curl into him, look to him for comfort…. and he always gives it so eagerly. because he knew you’d come around eventually!! and he wants to reward you for it!!!!!
like genuinely rem i see cult leader!geto as even more of a caretaker than suguru because cult leader!geto doesn’t put any limits on his love. he wouldn’t care if it was overwhelming. he mothers the hell out of you with literally no signs of stopping because he quite literally lives and breathes devotion. might even border on worship….
I’M STARTING TO RAMBLE PSHDJSH this genuinely made me insane rem 😭😭😭 tysm for feeding me ily always !!! i can always trust u when it comes to sugu <3333
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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years ago
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you got a fetish for my love, i push you out and you come right back
summary: the softest man in the world is in love
warnings: nick is a warning. how dare he. smut. smoking (but we’re trying to get him to stop). some of that daddy shit bc ugh, that beard.
word count: around 5,320
pairing: nick vaughan x reader
a/n: let me tell you, it is weird writing nick one second, the softest, sweetest man, and then switching over to ransom, aka satan.
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“You shouldn’t be smoking.”
The man with his back to you turned around, arching an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
You brought your hands up to your waist, looking as confident as you could possibly make yourself look. You didn’t have a mirror on you, but you would bet it wasn’t very convincing. “Um, second-hand smoke. Third-hand smoke. Not to mention what it could do to you.”
Moving closer, he took another brief drag. “And what’s that?”
You huffed. Really? You were going to reach way back into your 8th-grade health class memories for that. “Lung disease, it can cause cancer, like, everywhere, heart disease—”
“But you’re already taking care of my heart, angel.”
You fell silent at that, frowning.
He continued to close the gap between you. “What else?”
“It’s bad for your skin,” you asserted, tone firm despite how close he was getting. “Causes wrinkles.”
“That so?”
You nodded, refusing to step back as he stopped mere inches before you. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re my father.”
He smirked, dropping his cigarette on the floor and stepping on it with the toe of his boot. Boots that were far too expensive to be stepping on cigarettes with. Hell, he shouldn’t even have been outside with them. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”
Your gaze moved off to the side and finally, you stepped away to create some distance. ‘You said you were going to stop, Nick.”
“I know, I’m trying.”
“Try harder. I’m being serious, okay? People die—”
He moved back in front of you and took your chin in his hand, forcing your gaze up to his. “I’m working on it.”
“If you really care about me, you’ll stop.”
“I’m gonna stop,” he promised. “Soon. Come on, don’t give me those eyes.”
He loved your eyes. He had to have told you about a hundred times by now, claimed he liked the innocence in them that never seemed to die out. No matter how many times he took you up to his hotel room and fucked you in every filthy way he could think of. Sure, it was pretty sick sometimes, but he always touched you so softly, whispered the sweetest things to you, and held you afterward.
Your eyes could make him do just about anything, he would often declare. Except, apparently, stop smoking.
“Come on, I’m sorry.”
You crossed your arms, pulling out of his hold. “You’re only sorry you got caught.”
“No, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
“And don’t be sorry to just me, be sorry to yourself. I think you need healthy lungs for your music career, right?”
He lifted his eyebrows, still amused at how serious you were being. No one in New York took smoking seriously.
“Also, you ever stop and think about what would happen to me if you weren’t here?” That was a little on the sneaky side. You knew that there was the overall scenario of you being lonely, but he would soon start to think about how that would mean you would be with other people.
He scoffed, feigning calmness. “No, I don’t. I don’t want you to, either.”
You didn’t need to hear it, you knew he could connect the dots. “You are forcing me to.”
“Angel, what’s all this about?” he wondered. “Why are you being such a brat?”
“I’m not being a brat,” you immediately protested. Even though you knew he didn’t mind, there was just something in you that twisted at the thought of being bratty. You were not trying to be argumentative even, you were just worried.
“You want daddy to spank you?”
You looked around with wide eyes. Not that anyone in New York had the time or interest to listen to anyone else’s conversations, but still, this was private. “Nick.”
He tsked. “Nick?”
You sighed, casting a look around. “There are too many people here.”
He chuckled. “No one’s listening, angel.”
“I’m not being bratty,” you muttered. “I’m just concerned about you. Since when is that a crime?”
He smiled, reaching his hand out for you. You didn’t waste any time nearly wrapping your entire body around his arm. “What do you want?”
You were not getting away this time, he was also in a mood. Evidently, since he usually spoiled you to the point of letting you get away with “misbehaving” if you apologized or feigned discomfort.
“Take me upstairs, daddy.” It was hardly above a whisper, but it thrilled him to no end that he’d managed to get you to call him that outside of the absolute comfort of the bedroom.
Nick liked you feeling safe with him. He’d never met a more trusting soul, someone almost naive. However, it had taken him a long fucking time to get that sincere trust from you. He picked up on the body language, the things you wouldn’t say. That was why he could give the date for the night you finally let him fuck you with the lights on, the night you finally stayed with him until morning, the night you finally gave him your number because he had convinced you to sneak away from your dad to meet him at the hotel and you had to get back home but you still wanted to talk to him. He could give the date for the first morning you woke up and put on one of his shirts, the morning you let him eat you out for the first time, the morning you let him fuck you against the hotel window.
He wrapped his arms around you and started to lead you inside. It had been almost a year now and you were obsessed with Nick. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and he was kind and gentle, but also passionate and sometimes a little rough when he knew you wanted him to be. It was never mindless, hard fucking. Even when he made it hurt, he held you so close, so tight, his eyes would remain on yours the whole time. He would wipe away your tears and continue bucking his hips. He would whisper to you, coo at you, and make you fall apart until you were so exhausted you couldn’t keep your eyes open.
You were pretty sure you were in love with him. He would be the first. Sure, there was your first boyfriend who you had wanted to be your first for everything. He’d given you a promise ring and told you that he wanted to wait until you were his wife. That one didn’t end well. Your third boyfriend, you thought that one was real. You’d had sex with him, and then he completely disappeared. To this day, you had no idea where he was. But you knew now, those things you’d felt for them, they were so small, so weak. What you felt for Nick was consuming, you felt like every inch of you belonged to him, like you were made for him.
In the elevator, with an elderly couple, an older man, and a party of four younger women that looked like they were on their way to a club, Nick had his lips to your ear. “Angel, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re crying. You know I love those sounds you make and the look you give me when you just can’t take anymore. When your beautiful, little cunt is used and aching and dripping with my cum. But that’s only after I have you on the bed, wet, squirming, begging daddy to make you feel good.”
You felt like you were on fire. If anyone heard, you would be mortified, you would never be able to leave your house again. Things like this were supposed to be private, between the people who were doing it. Nick had the audacity to make some of it almost public. You would admit that there was the tiniest bit of thrill, but most of it was fear and panic.
He touched the side of your face and you startled a little, one of your hands coming up to settle over his forearm. “Jesus, you’re beautiful and so fucking…innocent.”
You were not innocent. You weren’t even sure what he meant by that. Ever. When he said it, you were confused each time.
“The thought of your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock, trying to take all you can because you’re so good to me, those eyes staring up at me…”
You swallowed thickly, eyes moving to the elevator buttons. How many more god damn floors were there? The elevator stopped again seconds later, and the elderly couple got out. Fewer people but you still didn’t feel any less nervous.
“Afterward, your sweet, tight pussy will be dripping. You know how wet you get after you suck my cock.”
Embarrassingly wet. He was fascinated the first time you’d done it, then he laid you out on the bed and when he made the discovery, he ate you out until you could barely remember what year it was.
“Then I’m gonna have you on top of me, angel. You’re so good at it, I swear you were made just to ride my cock. Remember what you were begging me for last time?”
You remembered and instantly felt your skin burning all over again.
“Maybe I’ll fuck your—”
The elevator stopped on your floor and you rushed out. The group of girls was also getting out, creating some time for you to get away from Nick and breathe. He was always intense, and he never stopped pushing you. You didn’t necessarily hate it. Really, you knew you liked it, but you could never admit that to him, his behavior would just get worse.
He found you with your back pressed against the door, waiting patiently for him. He’d been staying here for several months; he had the same room because he’d wanted to give you a key. For emergencies, he claimed. If you ever needed a place to get away, even if he wasn’t home. It had only happened a few times, he wouldn’t say a word when he would find you bundled up in his bed. He would just join you under the sheets and make you come several times, at least.
He set his hands on your hips and you looked up to him. “What’s on your mind tonight?”
You woke up that morning just knowing. You were in love with Nick and you were terrified. You didn’t want to be in love, not with him. With his music career taking off, he couldn’t want something serious. You figured this was just him wasting time. When he was an established name, he would go out and find himself a proper partner. It wasn’t you, this shy, small thing with no backbone, terrible parents, and no solid plans for your future.
But why ruin a good thing? You wanted to let it last while you could. You smiled at him and shook your head. “Nothing, really. I missed you.”
He smiled back. “I missed you, too.”
You didn’t live in New York with your father, but you had been visiting a lot more frequently. Your father was thrilled about it, thrilled enough not to want to question it. Your mother took it as an insult and didn’t ask a single question about why. It was honestly the perfect crime.
It had only been three weeks since you’d last been with Nick, you were allowing for less time to pass in between the nights you spent with him. You once went a month and a half, how unimaginable that felt—you knew you wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. You would go crazy without him being able to touch you for six weeks.
“You could stay,” he pointed out. “Here. With me.”
You scoffed. “No, I can’t.”
“You could apply to NYU, I’m sure you’ll get in. You could start building your life over here. If not with me, why not live with your dad?”
This was getting serious and you were worried this conversation would wreck everything. Nick thought he wanted something, but only because he was scared. You didn’t want to uproot your entire life for something fleeting.
“I don’t want to talk about this tonight,” you said quietly.
“Okay. But we will. Later.”
You nodded—a lie. You wouldn’t even be with him much longer. You had breakfast you’re your dad and then you would be on a flight back to your mother’s. “Yeah.”
Smiling, he asked, “Well, what do you want to talk about?”
You shrugged. “I don’t want to talk.”
He hummed. “No? You don’t have more scolding to do?”
“I can wait,” you teased. Your eyes flit to either side just to make sure no one was around. “But right now, I just want you to touch me.”
He bent down just slightly to pick you up by your thighs. You eagerly wrapped yourself around him and pressed your lips to his, kissing him like it’d been years.
He struggled to open the door, but you didn’t seem to mind that you could get caught at any moment, you seemed completely distracted by him. That was his goal, make your time here so good that eventually, you just wouldn’t be able to leave him.
Finally, he managed to get you inside the room. You had it all memorized, even with your eyes closed you knew exactly where he always was. He was leading you down the hallway, past the kitchen and the living area, to the door at the end of the walkway. Past the bathroom, past the dresser full of sheet music and records.
He laid you out on the bed delicately, pulling away so he could stare at you. You moved to pull your skirt up, but he caught your hands in his. “Not yet.”
He started at your feet. He pulled off your shoes and began kissing your calves, a touch that felt so distant through your tights.
You whined. “Daddy.”
“You’re going to be patient, angel.”
And that was that. You never argued with him, rarely disobeyed. You were perfect, you were good. You were, as he so fondly called you, an angel that did everything she was supposed to do. Not just for him, but for everyone. He knew that about you, knew that you never liked to make trouble for anyone. Even your dad, who had been almost completely absent during your childhood, off chasing his current wife. Even your mother, who was mean, unsupportive, and childish. You were sweet as could be, well-behaved, soft-spoken, bright-eyed, and glowing. He thought you were perfect.
Biting your lip, paying close attention to how much you were moving, you watched in near silence as he continued to press his lips up your legs. As soon as his eyes flickered up to yours, your heart was pounding. There was a lot about Nick that you just didn’t understand.
You could look at yourself in the mirror and understand why people thought you were pretty, but of course, you did not think as highly of yourself as Nick thought of you. Alternatively, he could not do the same. He could not understand why you liked looking at him in the mornings, why you liked to trace his features with your fingers, why you spent so much time just kissing his face whenever you got the chance. You were baffled that he could look like that and not know what he did to people.
He blushed a lot. When you accidentally told him, the first time, that you thought he was beautiful—never again would you drink wine with him—and now, all the deliberate times after that. Because unintentional or not, you meant it and you wanted him to know. When you would take him in your mouth and he had his hands at his sides, leaving you to control everything, and when you took so much of him that you would gag and choke, he was permanently flushed. When he played for you, forget it.
He was at the hemline of your skirt and started pushing it up, kissing at the insides of your thighs. You bit down harder on your lip as he continued up, up, up until he kissed your pussy. Over tights and your panties, it was still good enough that you shuddered. You could feel his beard, some random hairs managing to poke into the open spots of your tights. It was a feeling that reminded you of being home, not with either of your parents now, but when they were still together in your first home. Nick was comfort and security, he was warmth and so much raw emotion.
You brought one hand up to press your fingers to your lips. You were so wet that you could feel the material against you was damp. He always knew how to do that to you, how to get you so wanting. And the neighbors always knew when you were there, they would play music because you were so embarrassingly loud, not that he was ever considerate about that. You just wanted to pretend you had some dignity, at least for a while.
He kissed across your thigh and up the side of your hip, back across until he could kiss down the opposite side. You remembered you used to hate when he would do this, when there wasn’t a part of you that he wouldn’t at least devote a moment of attention to. You didn’t hate it now, you noticed it made you a lot more confident. You didn’t care how tight a skirt was around your hips or that a skirt was so short that everyone could see your thighs touching. It wasn’t even his goal and it wasn’t dependent on his interest in you at all, but you knew he was the cause.
You often wondered if he looked at everyone like this. It really hadn’t been long, but sometimes you swore he might feel the same about you. You’d always wrote it off as your age, but how would someone his age honestly fall in love with you? And if he wasn’t, why the hell did he look at you the way he did?
“How many lives have you ruined?”
His eyebrows rose and he pulled his mouth away from you. “I’m sorry?”
“You look at me like that, you kiss me like that—”
“Like what?”
You rolled your eyes. Honestly, you weren’t sure how to put it into words. The last thing you wanted to do was accuse him of acting or pretending. That was one of the few boundary lines with Nick that was quickly established—he didn’t like analysis of his emotions. They were his own and he didn’t want anyone to presume that they knew them better than him. You truly didn’t mind. You’d come from a toxic environment of men who would sooner die than cry and couldn’t healthily express their anger if the world depended on it. “You know like what.”
“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.” He leaned back down, kissing either knee once. “But I won’t make you, I want you to want to say it.”
First time he’d ever taken that route. He teased you a lot, like challenging your views. And he liked those rare times you could challenge his. You’d both talked and talked until you managed to get to this place where you were both completely comfortable with what you were. He had to compromise on how casual this could seem at times, and you had to compromise on how obscenely intimate it was to you sometimes. And though you both compromised, it was still hard to see the other’s point of view. What was he so scared of with ‘casual’? You, on the other hand, dreaded falling for someone who couldn’t reciprocate.
He reached for your tights and slowly pulled them down. Again, he moved to where he was exposing skin and scattered kisses all over you. He deliberately got as close to your pussy as he could without ever touching you, several times, and enjoyed that you gasped and shivered each time.
He didn’t pull your underwear out of his way before he finally kissed you there. He went on like this, curious to see just how much you could take. You tried not to ask for more, to feed into his ego, and you succeeded for several minutes. You could feel his tongue and his lips, the texture of your panties was slight stimulation, but as time went on, you craved him more.
When you finally broke, your eyes were filled with tears, your hands were shaking as you reached for him, and you couldn’t form a single coherent word. Instead of pulling your panties down and eating your pussy, he moved up your body and removed your sweater and your bra. Again, he was kissing you all over, but you could hardly focus on anything other than your throbbing pussy.
“Daddy, please,” you whimpered.
He moved his mouth up until he could kiss your lips. He settled down on the bed beside you and pulled away, sitting you up a little. You took his cue and shifted up on the bed until you could rest on the headboard.
You watched as his hand reached for you, holding your breath until he was sliding one finger into you. “Fuck, daddy.” Your hips bucked almost immediately, silently begging for more. He added a second finger and you turned to hide your face against his chest.
He curled his fingers slowly, focusing on the sounds you made, the way your body would tense and shudder, and soon enough, he’d found that blissful spot that he knew made you see stars.
You clumsily reached for his pants, taking far too long to get your hands on his thick cock. You felt yourself get so much wetter, remembering just how big he felt inside you. Not that you were experienced when he’d found you, but taking his cock had been so delightfully painful and you kind of liked that he was the first man really stretching you out like that.
“Fuck,” he breathed against the side of your face. “Watch my fingers, angel, watch me fuck you with them.”
You turned down, paying attention to how they moved, and the wet sounds from your pussy. You slowly moved your hand along his cock, wanting—but too shy to ask for—him to cover your body with his cum. He preferred finishing inside you, he liked letting it drip out of you and then filling you back up all over again.
When your breaths turned shorter and your moans became louder, he knew you were so close. He moved his fingers faster, brought his thumb down to your clit. Your whole body was shaking, and he could feel how desperate you were because your hand around him tightened.
“You wanna come, angel?”
“Please, daddy,” you blurted out. “Please, please make me come.”
He pulled your hand off his cock and kissed you when you made a noise of protest. His opposite hand never even faltered as he explained, “Daddy’s coming inside you. Keep begging.”
“Please, I want to come, daddy. I want to come on your fingers, I want you to get me wet enough so my tight, little pussy can take your huge cock.”
“What a filthy mouth, angel. Where’d you learn to talk like that? Been watching the videos I’ve been sending you?”
“Yes, daddy. I watch every single one and I touch myself, thinking about how much I miss you inside me.”
“You have no idea how much I miss having your pussy wrapped around me when you’re gone.”
You finished with a sharp cry, using your free hand to try to push his touch away, but he was so much stronger than you. Add to the fact that you really didn’t want him to stop, if you could stay there in bed with him, feeling that for the rest of your life, you would.
You almost instantly rolled over on top of him, kissing him as you moved up his body until you were straddling him. He set his hands on your hips, holding you steady as you slid down on him. As you adjusted, he let his hands wander to your breasts. You were still shaking, panting, trying to come down from your high but you were addicted to pleasing Nick.
You rolled your hips, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. You needed to see him naked, coming here without seeing all of him would be an absolute waste. He helped you get the shirt off after a moment and your hands roamed all over his torso.
He took your hips again, using his hold on you to pick up the pace just a little. You let your head fall back, he would want to watch your body anyway. You brought your arms back and rested your hands on the mattress around his legs. He had to fuck you just a little harder from this angle to see your breasts move with every thrust, but you were okay with that.
You always knew when he was close because his fingers would dig into your skin and he always did everything he could to get as close to you as he possibly could. This time, he sat up and pulled you up so your chest was flush against his. You continued bouncing up and down on his cock, mewling and whimpering because you knew he loved those sounds.
“Are you close, daddy?”
“Yeah, angel, keep going just like that.”
“Tell me when you’re really close.”
He faltered for just a second, processing your odd request, but did not argue.
You set your hands to his face, dragging him in for a kiss, open-mouthed, tongues, moaning obscenely for one another. As he was distracted, you unwound his arms from your back and held them flat on the mattress by his forearms.
“I’m close,” he informed after turning his head just slightly, breathing heavily on your skin. “I’m so fucking close.”
You started moving quickly, pulling off of him and crawling back down the bed. He was stunned silent until you bent down and took his wet cock, messy from your pussy, in your mouth. You’d only just closed your lips around him when both of his hands settled on the back of your head to hold you down. He only needed to jerk his hips up a few times before he was filling your mouth.
He kept you there until his high had drifted away, and you never once complained. You swallowed the cum that you could, but some of his had slipped out of your mouth, and sucked softly until he let you up.
As soon as you were sitting up, he was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you on top of him. Still trying to catch his breath, it was clear that he wasn’t letting you go for quite some time. Because no one would expect Nick to want to cuddle after sex.
And because his brain was not functioning at its best, he was simultaneously attempting to kick off his pants and pull the sheets over the two of you. But you weren’t there to be unsupportive, you simply laid on his chest and tried not to laugh.
After he’d managed it, which had to have taken about five minutes, he turned off the lamp on the bedside table and stretched over to do the same on the other side. He once again wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. “Fuck, I love you.”
You weren’t sure how to respond, so all you did was lay there. He didn’t miss a beat, he just started running one of his hands through your hair and then nothing. Not another word.
Fuck.
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You only woke up because Nick was moving around so much. As quiet as he tried to be and as softly as he tried to move out from under you, he always failed at it. When he realized he’d woken you up again, he froze.
You grabbed one of the pillows and yanked it over his face as you climbed out of bed. You didn’t want to have to get up because that meant that you would soon have to leave. You grabbed your phone out of your bag on the way to the bathroom, not bothering to get dressed. Nick loved seeing you walk around the room naked, and that was why you always ignored that nervous nagging feeling that told you to cover up.
“Sorry,” he called out.
You didn’t respond.
After you brushed your teeth, you opened the door. You heard him moving around the bedroom as you were performing your simple morning skincare routine. He always did that, just waited until you were done so he could get in. He liked making you watch in the mirror.
And right on cue, Nick entered the bathroom, stopping just inches behind you. You didn’t turn, you merely watched him in the mirror and waited. He wrapped his arms around you, and you noticed the single red rose he was holding. He started at your lips, letting the flower trail down, then over your nipples, and down just above your navel.
You shivered when he pulled it away, offering it to you. With a smile you were looking down to hide, you took the rose from him.
He kissed the side of your face, arms wrapping loosely around your waist He pressed one hand to your stomach, and you were reminded of how much you loved his stupid hands. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“I’m sorry about what I said last night. I know it was…a lot.”
Yeah, it was. You’d built it up in your mind as some terrifying thing that you would never want to hear, especially from him, but when he said it, it just wasn’t like that. When he said it, it made you feel safe. It made you feel loved. “But did you mean it?”
“Only if you’re not going to run away.”
You finally looked up in the mirror, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I won’t.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“And maybe I love you back.”
“Maybe?”
“Maybe,” you confirmed. “And maybe I’m even considering staying.”
He perked up at that, turning you around quickly to face him. “Tell me what I need to do or say and I will.”
You brought the rose up and set it to his lips, smirking again.
He narrowed his eyes.
All you did was shrug. “Not sure yet, but you have all day to convince me.”
“I thought you were leaving today.”
You set the rose down on the counter. “Changed my mind.”
He was beaming as he picked you up and sat you on the counter. “That means you’ve already decided to stay.”
“I never said that.”
“I’m not letting you leave. Ever.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your smile. “I have to go home, you know…and pack.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled. “Probably a good idea to let my mom meet my daddy.”
“Please don’t make those jokes in front of your parents.”
You snorted. “Oh, now you want to be a gentleman?”
“Always am, angel. Open your legs and I’ll prove it.” He spread your thighs wider as he got down to his knees. He pulled you to the edge of the counter and with his eyes on yours, he took your pussy with his mouth.
“Fuck,” you gasped. “But this means you have to stop smoking.”
He pulled back, narrowing his eyes at you. “Now, seriously?”
You buried both hands in his hair and pulled him back in.
chris tags:
@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @kleohoneyao3 @cevans-fics @gotnofucks​
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chuuya-centric · 4 years ago
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returning the favor
characters: chuuya nakahara, ranpo edogawa (generalized for both in the beginning, individualized under the cut)
genre: fluff, smut
warnings: afab reader, no pronouns used for reader, insecure ?? s/o, this is literally me just projecting my insecurities, smut obviously 🤨 its not like super explicit, n maybe a lil more comforting than anything <33
↬okay so like chuuya and ranpo w an s/o thats like always willing to go down on them n make them feel good yk 😩😫
↬but they end up feelin a lil guilty bc its all give n no receive on ur end 🤒 so they decide to ask u ab it next time u go down on them n whenever u were done they were like "hey do u want me return the favor ?"
↬and ur just like "what 😐" but that wasnt rlly the reaction they were expecting at all so they're like "????? wdym what i wanna make u feel good too ???????" so you're like "oh idrc lmao" or sth like that n yk by this point i'm sure theyve figured out ur (more than) a lil insecure
↬so they jus kinda drop it and dont bring it up until the next time u go to give them a bj n they stop u before u can do anything nd theyre like begging to go down on u bc they wanna make it all up to u n make u feel as good as u make them feel so u finally hesitantly agree and hnnbghhh
chuuya nakahara
↬chuuya wouldve realized u were insecure whenever he started thinkin ab all the times you'd given him head n he'd never returned the favor and he immiediately felt so shitty ab it :((
↬i dont think he'd like outright verbally address it ?? bc hes rlly bad with words, so like next time yall were making out n it started getting heated and u moved between his legs he stopped u almost instantly n flipped the positions or whatever so now he was in between ur legs and he's lookin up at u, and taking in ur reaction, n so when u dont say anything he'd whisper "is this okay?" n u just dumbly nod bc ur so taken aback by it n dont wanna hurt his feelings
↬but that doesn't slide at all w him, he needs you to verbalize ur consent. otherwise everything stops there
↬immiediately stops if u start crying and asks u what's wrong and if ur ok and u can hear the genuine concern in his voice n he would def think he did sth wrong <//3
↬and so you'd jus start crying harder but still try n be like "no im fine wdym" and yk hes obviously not buying it and would probably apologize tbh n he'd be like "i can stop if ur not enjoying it" :((( n he's looking just as nervous as u are cause he just rlly doesnt wanna fuck up or like make u feel pressured into anything
↬n u would have to explain to him it has nothing to do w him, ur just rlly insecure n by then the gears are def turning in his brain or whateva 💯 n he would like kiss ur forehead then the tip of ur nose then both of ur cheeks before finally giving u a rlly gentle kiss on ur lips and moving back between ur legs
↬but this time he like builds up to it yk hes covering ur thighs in kisses n telling u how pretty u r and ab how good u taste and just doing his best to be reassuring n eats u out rlly slowly
↬his aftercare would be so fucking sweet as well :(( he'd like clean u up w a warm rag before pulling u on top of him n coverin ur face in kisses n asking why someone as perfect as u was so insecure to begin with
ranpo edogawa
↬i think ranpo def realized u were rlly insecure early on but he never said anything ab it 🤨🤨
↬when he finally did he was absolutely insistent on going down on u then n there and u were like "yeah, but what if—" but he immiediately shut u the fuck up w a rlly sweet kiss before pulling away n lookin u dead in the eye and going "i just wanna make u feel as good as u make me feel"
↬and so u take a deep breath to steady urself before nodding in silent approval bc his words made u melt n he starts going to town on ur kitty bc hes rlly excited n eager to please 🙏
↬thats probably when he realizes that he should like slow down his pace as well so he presses a rlly gentle kiss against ur thigh n hes jus like "just tell me when to stop ok sweets ?" n u nod at him thru the tears before like he goes back to eating u out n praising u whenever he can and like coverin ur thighs in kisses n a handful of lovebites as well 🤒🙏
↬i think if u were to start crying he'd be genuinely confused (bc ur like actually perfect in his eyes and he legitimately doesnt understand why ur so insecure) n so he looks up at u like "r u okay ?? did i do sth wrong ???? whats wrong ??????" and u start crying even harder n he like immiediately starts showering u in praise and reassuring u to try to calm u down (the only way he rlly knows how)
↬afterwards he'd dry ur tears and cuddle u n tell u how good u tasted (much to ur embarrassment) and that u rlly shouldn't have anything to be insecure ab bc he'd fr spend hours between ur legs if u let him n that ur sweeter than any candy hes ever had </3
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realcube · 4 years ago
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coming out to them as bisexual 🏳️‍🌈 pt 2
part one | navi | taglist 
thanks to anon for this cute request 
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characters: yaku, tendō & atsumu
 trigger warning: swearing, coming out, mentions of drug dealing, 
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morisuke yaku
♡ he gives off bi mom friend energy
♡ but i don’t think he cares about his sexual orientation too much or gives it any thought - he knows he loves you and that’s enough
♡ hence he probably identifies at straight 
♡ which means he is the straight mom friend 
♡ he’s still a mom friend either way though so ofc he noticed when you started getting all fidgety, nervous and defensive around him - like you were trying to hide something 
♡ which you were; as recently you were reminded of the fact you were going to have to come out to your boyfriend eventually or else he might find out on his own
♡ so every time you entered a conversation with him, you started it with the intention of coming out to him but every single time you got nervous and chickened out
♡ yaku didn’t know this though so he was automatically under the assumption you were doing something shady behind his back
♡ however, he trusted you enough to know that you weren’t the sort of person to do stuff like that; but either way, he had to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering you so much 
♡ but when you tell him that it’s bc you are bi, he supports you completely 💖💖
♡ probably gets you a little wristband with the bi flag on it to apologise for his accusatory behaviour
♡ *cue discussion* 
♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
“you’re probably wondering why we are all gathered here today.” yaku said, his eyes flickering between the chairs, which were all placed in a circle, each one being occupied by a plushie of yours. 
you sat directly across from him, slumped back in your chair and trying to stifle a snicker at him talking to your plushies as if they could listen. “yaku, why are we here?”
he wasted no time in pulling rilakkuma off it’s chair and hurling it directly at your head, “why have you been acting so shady and suspicious around me recently?!” 
although it was only a plush toy, the force behind yaku’s throw was enough to almost result in you falling off your chair. even though he didn’t seem in the best of moods, you figured now was a better time than ever to come out to him as it meant you wouldn’t have to lie further and risk potentially getting yourself in more trouble - plus, pompompurin was here and he’d accept you even if yaku didn’t.
“i- i was just nervous about coming out.” you eventually choked out, your gaze dropping to the ground to avoid having to look yaku in the eye. 
yaku felt a tinge on guilt shoot through his body before he spluttered, “oh, that’s cool, then. congratulations!” he shot you a smile accompanied by a thumbs-up before swiftly getting up from his seat and walking round the circle to gather the plushies, “what are you coming out as, if you don’t mind me asking?”
your eyes widened at how quickly his demeanour changed, “uh- bi.” you stuttered, hesitantly getting up from your chair to join him in clearing up. “it’s fine, yaku. i guess i was acting kinda dodgy - i was all out of nerves though! i promise i’m not part of some huge, underground drug deal.”
yaku simply smiled, kissing the nape of your neck as he passed by you to stack the chairs, “that makes one of us.”
“what-”
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satori tendō
♡ in regards to his sexuality- i have no idea- maybe pan? maybe straight? maybe ace? who knows
♡ i don’t think he himself even knows what sexuality he is
♡ like i can imagine him replying ‘yes’ when someone asks him what his sexual orientation is 
♡ though he definitely supports the lgbtq+ community i mean look at him, does he look homophobic to you? /j
♡ probably gets bisexual, bisulfite & bicycle mixed up sometimes
♡ ‘heh, what? you’re bisectional?’ 
♡ srsly he would not care
♡ unless you cry, then he knows it is serious
♡ but besides that, he doesn’t understand the pressure and anxiety associated with coming out so when you he’s just like ‘good for you. wanna go harass some seagulls now?’ 
♡ anyway, he realises that coming out is pretty big deal, he’ll be so chuffed that you decided to tell him
♡ he’s so cute 🥺 and he’ll make you a cake with the bi colors on it! to both congratulate you and apologise for being so indifferent the first time 
♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
you sighed, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly until you heard three consecutive knocks at your door followed by a muffled ‘(y/n)!’, so you immediately knew it was tendō as he is the only person who knocks instead of ringing the doorbell. 
your lips instinctively curled into a smile as this’d be the first time you’ve talked to tendō since you came out to as bi around a week ago, to which he replied, “okay. anyway, back to what i was saying about avatar..”
though it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, you couldn’t really find a reason to complain. i mean, an ‘okay’ wasn’t him dismissing your sexuality or saying he hated you for it, hence you’d feel bad if you were to moan about it.
you swung the door open and were about to instinctively throw yourself into his arms but you stopped in your tracks when he flinched, and that’s when you noticed the gift he held in his hands; a beautiful cylindrical layer cake with a smooth ombré icing fade of pink, to purple to blue - the bisexual flag colors. 
without even greeting you, tendō immediately began his apology and trying to shove the cake into your arms, “sorry about last week. i felt really bad so i made you this cake! i know i’m late but congratulations, (y/n). love you~”
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atsumu miya
♡ he has ragin bisexual energy but let’s not talk about that-
♡ he’s straight guys 🙄
♡ yeah let’s just say that
♡ anyway, he’s super duper nervous and surprised when you could out to him but he tries to be cool about it 
♡ like he seriously doesn’t know how to act 
♡ HE DOESN’T LET ANYONE BE MEAN TO YOU ABOUT IT THOUGH
♡ he will literally put anyone in a casket real quick if they even look at you the wrong way after you come out 
♡ flashback to that one time suna made a threesome joke after you told him you were bi and atsumu spat on him 
♡ he probably talks to you about hot girls now
♡ HE THINKS THAT YOU ARE OKAY WITH HIM STALKING HOT GIRLS’ INSTAGRAM PAGES AS LONG AS HE SENDS YOU A LINK TO THEIR ACC ONCE HE’S DONE
♡ and you are 🥰
♡ and he does it so often too like everytime you get a notif from him there is a 90% chance it’s a link to a hot girls’ instagram 
♡ (or a catgirl)
♡ and please respond with something like ‘you feed me so well tsumu🙏’ or else he won’t feel like his efforts are apricated 
♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
you peered over atsumu’s shoulder as he shamelessly admired the admired pretty ladies on his instagram explore page while sitting right beside you - his sweet girlfriend who he believed to be straight. well, not for long, though. 
you couldn’t help but smile, playfully flicking the base of his neck before muttering, “she’s hot.”
atsumu replied without hesitation, “I know right.” then swiped the instagram tab away, turning to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead, “not as hot as you though.” 
jeez. you thought you could indirectly come out to him by complimenting that lady but it was as if he simply refused to pick up on the hints you were constantly dropping. “i’m bi, atsumu.” you blurted out, along with a swift roll of your eyes. 
his eyes winded instantly - most at the fact you just called him by his whole first name rather than ‘babe’ or ‘bitch’ like you usually do. but eventually he processed the first thing you said and to say his was shocked would be an understatement. 
his heart was going 100 miles an hour while he sat frozen, staring at you like a fool while you sat there, looking at him expectantly. he had so much he wanted to say; so much he needed to tell you but the words got caught in his throat and he was afraid of coming off nosey or fake. he genuinely wanted to tell you how much he supported and loved you but of course, what really came out was, “that’s a vibe.”
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chitsangenthusiast · 4 years ago
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good afternoon i bring with me a (slightly rough) wip of zuko getting to see his daughter for the first time after she's born <3
(featuring some zuko teasing bc the gaang can't help it even at his daughter's birth, and sokka also getting to hold her!!)
She’s born in the middle of a scorching summer, under the gaze of a shining moon and on a bed covered in caribou-hare pelts.
Zuko knows when she’s arrived; he’s already crossed the length of the reception room by the time the clamor behind the separating screen abruptly cuts into a breathless silence, and his heart beats in expectation when Suki pokes her head out. She’s exhausted, she’s excited, and she’s dragging him in before he can even fathom any kind of thought.
He comes in just as the midwife finishes in clearing her nose and mouth, to reveal a tiny face and the full sound of his daughter’s fair wail.
Daughter.
Zuko stumbles.
A bubble of absolute glee spills from his mouth as he’s pushed into a chair next to the bed because, from here, he has an even better view. Poking out above her little arm is a head covered in a wet smattering of dark hair and already full eyebrows, with impossibly round cheeks showing off pouting lips and red gums while she cries. She’s loud, she’s announcing her presence, she’s so small.
Zuko chokes on an exhilarated gasp. That’s his daughter.
He reaches out, then falters. As he watches her settle into the soothing warmth of bare skin, all he wants is to fall forward to her, to tuck her into him and rest his hand on her small back to feel how she lifts the entirety of her body as he cries and breathesin her first moments. But he’s not sure who he can touch or even what he can touch on the bed, and he instead throws an absentmindedly desperate hand out to stop himself from grabbing at the furs as he works to remember how to properly take in air.
Someone grabs it—Sokka, he can tell by the calluses on his fingers—and directs it down. Instantly, instinctively, Zuko splays his fingers to cradle her head and strokes his thumb over his daughter’s ear.
His hand curls perfectly around her, and he chokes on another exhilarated sob.
“Katara—”
“She’s beautiful,” Katara immediately returns. Her eyes flit up to Zuko’s, just for a moment, before sliding back down to the baby resting on her stomach. She’s holding a tiny fist in her own hand, running tired fingers up and down a forearm, and she can’t look away either. She’s crying, Zuko realizes, tears just like his own, and she shakes out little relieved sniffles when he and Sokka quickly clasp her heaving shoulders. Katara’s head falls back to the pillows—from the exhaustion, from the relief of their touch, from those strong, healthy cries—and her hand joins Zuko’s on his daughter’s head as she lets out a breathless laugh. “Oh wow, she’s really perfect, Zuko.”
“Thank you,” he gasps out, and then no other words come. His face is a reservoir of open gratitude even when he can’t get anything else out, he knows Katara understands him when she lightly runs a thumb against his hand in response to his spasming grip on her shoulder.
Thank you.
Aang is let in shortly after, buzzing out of his body as he rushes to Katara’s side, with Azula jumping at the chance to barrel inside too. He’s been through this before with Bumi, but his hands still shake slightly as he cups her face and leans down to kiss her forehead with a long, deep inhale. Katara reaches out a free hand to hold onto him, and just smiles at the comfort of his happiness.
Her other hand is still in Zuko’s grasp. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to let go just yet, even after moving to the other side of the bed so that his good ear could better pick up her murmuring, or after her careful transfer of his daughter into his his bare arms, and now together they hold onto an exposed arm left out of the blanket.
Snatches of conversation happen around him, slight jostling occurs as everyone works on the after care, but Zuko is captivated only by the bundle in his arms. Their eyes are locked—she looks up at Zuko, and he stares right back. When Katara has to let go, he takes over to admire his daughter with his thumb, tracing it across her plump jawline, smoothing down the soft hair on her head and over her eyebrows.
Toward the end of the pregnancy, when Aang and Katara came to stay at the palace to prepare, Zuko used to sometimes stare at her. It was hard, trying to imagine what a child between them would look like, and a niggling thought that circled in the back of his mind—quietly, in a determined attempt to not let it fester too much—had him wishing, hoping that his daughter would have more of Katara in her than him. Beyond possibly gold-tinted eyes, what worth did his ancestry have to offer in the face of so much goodness from Katara’s?
(He got scolded for ruminating over this, then given an extremely long hug, and then scolded again for his incessant doting over a Katara who did not need to be doted over, much to Aang’s cackling amusement and Zuko’s embarrassed chagrin.)
But his daughter looks so much like him, and in such a breathtakingly sweet way that leaves him stunned. He can see the small flicks of her eyes moving as they roam over his face; they’re so light in color, tawny almost like how Azula’s were when she was born, and he wonders if they’ll be bright like his or darken into a strong amber like Uncle’s. She also has his nose, a wide little thing that he can’t help but bop a finger against, and her cheeks may be big but Zuko thinks she has his chin.
“It’s crazy how alert she already is,” Aang says, smiling as he peeks down at her across the bed. “I hope her cries get louder though, she needs those firebender lungs so she can shout like you can, Zuko.”
“Don’t do that to me,” Azula instantly scoffs, taking her place next to her brother, then smirks at his lukewarm glare. “I can only handle one loudmouth at a time, and Zuzu is plenty already.”
“Hey—”
Sokka snorts, and responds faster than Zuko can continue. “Well, when she’s right, she’s right.”
Suki overtakes their snickering with a bright burst of laughter, and his daughter’s head rolls toward the noise. “I thought blessings for babies by airbenders were supposed to be good-natured?”
“Oh, sure,” Aang laughs as he takes a cool cloth from her to wipe at Katara’s neck. “She will have a loving heart, an inquisitive mind, and a steadfast head on her shoulders that will push her through anything she sets herself to achieve. But I also hope she gets a set of good strong lungs, just so Zuko can see what we’ve put up with over the years.”
“Can you all be nice to me for five seconds,” Zuko grumps lightly. “I’m literally holding my child right now.”
“I think Aang’s gonna be right too,” Sokka happily jumps back in, dropping a heavy hand on Zuko’s shoulder as he leans over him to coo into her space. “She’s already got his frown.”
“Sokka!” Katara chides, but her laughter is still the loudest above everyone else’s at the falsely disgruntled scowl they receive—which is indeed replicated perfectly on that little face. “You know you can’t say things like that, or she’s going to end up looking like you!”
Sokka just chuckles, and the happy sound thrums through Zuko’s nerves. He’s pulled back already, giving him room to curl around his daughter like she’ll be able to protect him from the teasing—and Zuko forcibly swallows down the heavy desire to pull him back in.
“If that happens, it’ll only be because we look like, Katara.”
“Alright, move over punks!” Toph is as gleefully brash as ever when she steps into room with Lin on her hip and Iroh following close behind her, but Zuko can see the excitement lighting up her face as she beelines over. “Stop hogging the kid!”
Suki makes quick work to take Lin from her while Aang moves to pull Bumi from Iroh’s arms, and the four of them maneuver themselves onto the bed around Katara. She grouses lightly, but still looks incredibly contented to now have her son within arm’s reach. Iroh moves to take up residence on Zuko’s free side next to Sokka, and rests his hand on Zuko’s other shoulder.
“Oh, nephew,” he breathes out in deep admiration, and Zuko can feel his elation all the way down to his bones. “What a remarkable little beauty you have there.”
“Do you want to hold her?” he asks, after Iroh has showered Katara with a slew of his own sincere appreciation. Katara shies a little at the praise, but her smile remains firm even as her eyes droop slightly, and Zuko has a feeling Aang may soon kick them all out into another room to let her sleep.
Iroh’s steady joy though is infectious, and the room alights with an even more blanketing warmth from it. He reaches out eagerly to gingerly take her into his arms, and his eyes shine as he coos down at his granddaughter.
“Welcome to the world, little one,” Iroh hums, “There are great things in store for you here, just you wait and see.”
Azula gets to hold her next. Not for as long as their uncle, too nervous to hold something so tiny yet also noticeably too unwilling to give her up, and Zuko feels his eyes start to prick as sheer happiness crashes over him at the sight.
Sokka is the third one, composure fully cracked and delighted tears flowing as he wetly hiccups between stunned laughter.
“What an awesome little kid,” he says, his watery grin is as wide as his eyes. He then carefully cradles one of her hands into his palm, and welcomes her with a gentle handshake.
“Hello, Izumi,” he murmurs, and Zuko’s heart sings. “It’s so good to finally see you.”
Zuko doesn’t have anything to say in response, burstingly overwhelmed.
Instead, he quietly marvels at how well Izumi fits into his arms as he brushes a finger over one of her eyebrows. He glances up, to commit to memory the full picture of them together—their eyes catch, and his breath hitches at the deep adoration he spies in those blue eyes.
Sokka shakes himself a beat later, and looks back down at Izumi with a blazing grin.
“Man, you really do look just like your dad, don’t you, little princess?”
She does, but she undeniably has pieces of Katara in her too. Her complexion is slightly darker, and there’s already a slight wave to her hair that Zuko idly traces in amazement. He’s somewhat certain she has Katara’s lips too, and she hasn’t smiled yet but the thought that she could also end up with that same spirited smile makes his chest ache in private joy. It’s thrilling, the notion that even when his friend isn’t around, Zuko will still be able to see her signature grin light up the Fire Nation.
Zuko glances back up while Sokka continues to look down at his daughter.
He allows himself a moment to stare.
And carefully, very carefully, he thinks about how Katara and Sokka have the same smile.
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The Undateables Reaction to MC having a Nightmare
Pairings: Diavolo x MC, Barbatos x MC, Simeon x MC
Warnings: FEM!READER!!!, swearing?, kissing, a miniscule mention of blood and zombies lol, luke being a sweetie pie (as per usual), just comfort in general bc i’m needy, mention of a panic attack, big daddy diavolo can fucking rail me ok?
A/N: people make fun of me for liking diavolo :((  so I had to get this out of my system
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Diavolo
Confused
I mean, he’s had nightmares before of course, but he’s never seen a human have one
He didn’t even know humans had the capacity to dream until a few nights before
So when he wakes up to you writhing around in the silken sheets, crying and begging some unknown entity to “please stop” and “don’t hurt him” with tears soaking your face, he was stumped
You seemed distressed so he did the only thing he could think of; wake you up
Now, this baby
He didn’t know, ok?
When he grips you firmly by the shoulders and gives you a good shake he only succeeds in scaring you a lot more
Your hand shoots up and you drag your nails across his pretty face in blind defense and wake up, tangled in mounds of silk, with a hulking figure hunched over next to you
Falling off the bed, you scramble as far as you can away from the monster and into a corner of the room
Barbatos, after hearing all the commotion, enters the room at that moment, allowing light from the hallway to flood the dark bedroom
“My lord, MC, what on earth is going on?!” He asks, noticing you crouching in the corner and he goes to you and rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, “My lady, are you alright? What did the young lord do to you?”
“Barbatos?” You whimper, tentatively peeking up from your hands.
“You can tell me, I’ll deal with him myself.”
“MC? Where’d you go, dove?” Came Diavolo’s disoriented voice from the bed, “Why’d you scratch me?”
A second later Barbatos was on his feet in a somewhat defensive stance, protecting you from any advance the demon lord could make.
You were still behind him crying less stormily, but crying nonetheless. Noticing how the butler was posed, you only started crying harder.
“Barbatos, please, i-it wasn’t him! It was me!” You said, emotion choking your sweet voice, “I h-had a bad dream and when I woke up, I hurt him!” 
Cocking a brow, the butler strode toward the light switch (i think they have electricity??) and upon flicking it on, understood what had happened.
The demon lord was still slightly hunched over on the mattress, nursing a scratched, bloody cheek, you were crouched against the far wall, sniffling and crying out of fear, the bed was a mess…
“Correct me if I’m wrong MC, did you have a nightmare?” He asked gently, “Can you move?”
“M-hm.” You nodded shakily, tears stil streaming down your flushed cheeks.
“Let me help you stand… there. Lord Diavolo, humans are fragile creatures, especially after such an ordeal. I trust you can calm her down?”
“Of course! Ah, Barbatos, would you mind getting some tea and possibly a bandage or two?”
“My thoughts exactly. I will be back promptly.”
Then the butler left the room.
Diavolo dabbed at his face with the shirt he’d discarded before getting into bed and turned to you. “MC, love, what happened?”
With a sob, you threw yourself into his arms, buried your face in his chest, and began to cry again. It was a terrible dream, all seven brothers and the rest of the devildom, including Barbatos had turned into zombies. After running and fighting for most of the dream, you and the Demon King had finally been cornered by an endless horde of zombies and slowly you realized there was no hope. Just as the brothers were about to pounce on your royal boyfriend, he’d looked behind him and said, “I’ll always love you my darling MC-” and that’s when a zombie grabbed you and started shaking you violently, effectively and abruptly rousing you and causing a minor panic attack.
Diavolo stroked your hair oh so gently until Barbatos returned with the tea and handed you a cup of the steaming, sweet-smelling liquid to calm your nerves. After taking a few teary sips, the warmth spread down to your toes almost immediately and you were able to stop crying.
“Talk to me,” He murmured, tilting his face to Barbatos while he cleaned and wrapped his wound, his amber eyes on you all the while, “What happened?”
“Bad d-dream,” You stuttered, clutching the delicate teacup with white knuckles, “The brothers got hurt, t-turned into zombies to be specific a-and it was just us but then they got you and Mammon started screaming a-and shaking me-”
“That was me, dove. I sincerely apologize, I didn’t know what was wrong, nor a way to properly handle it.” Diavolo brushed stray tears from your flushed cheeks and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, “Forgive me?”
You nodded, sighing with a body-wracking shudder and settled back into your boyfriend’s muscled arms.
“My Lord, in case this happens a second time, why don’t you ask MC how she would prefer to be roused from such a dream. These things can be traumatic for their minds, it’s best to put her at ease.”
“Indeed.” The tanned redhead nodded, holding out your empty teacup for the butler to refill, “Dearest, how can I help?”
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Barbatos
Knows this happens to humans and wasn’t surprised when you had one only a few weeks into staying at the palace
Prolly read a book or seven to learn this human bs
You claimed it was only from your new surroundings at the breakfast table, as to but the Lord and his butler at ease, but Barbatos is very intuitive
In fact, he’d seen you walk from your bedroom to the bathroom, hugging a blanket around yourself and sniffling, looking very frightened for a reason he didn’t know
Now he did
Hmm
The next evening, around two in the morning, you come running out of your room crying, hoping to find someone, and eventually, you did
Thinking it was one of the brothers, you crashed into them, wrapping your arms around their waist and burying your face in their chest, crying stormily until you felt the demon awkwardly pat your head with a gloved hand
Lucifer didn’t wear his gloves to bed… did he?
Did he even go to bed in the first place?
Probably not
Since when did Mammon wear a tailored waistcoat to bed?
Levi smelled different too, more like tea leaves, dishsoap, and ink than the salty ocean and fabric softener you were used to
Satans forearms were thicker than these as well; hours of holding books to his face gave him a little muscle
Where was the gentle coo and giggle you always got when you snuggled with Asmo?
Where the pecs your head usually rested on when Beel gave you one of his otherworldly hugs?
Why wasn’t Belphie’s shaggy hair tickling your face?
Wait
You look up and to your horror and embarrassment, it’s Barbatos. Not Beel, or Mammon, or Asmo (who you had been hoping to see) instead, it’s an extremely handsome butler with a very concerned look on his face
“MC? What happened?”
“B-Barbatos! I-I I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” You begin to back away, stuttering and tripping over your words while tears continue to soak the collar of your nightshirt, but before you can escape, gentle hands stop you.
One slender, gloved hand cups your cheek, brushing away tears, and another gently holds the small of your back.
“It’s alright, no need to apologize,” He spoke softly as not to scare you any further, “Come with me, I’ll make us some tea.”
The butler wraps you in a blanket and makes you comfy on the couch in the sitting area before starting the hot water and returning to the room.
He stood in the doorway awkwardly until you asked in a tiny voice, “Would you… would you mind s-sitting with me?”
“Of course.”
Not too close at first, but eventually after you cuddle up to his side, Barbatos settles an arm around your shoulders and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
“What happened?”
“Um…” You kept your eyes downcast, knowing you’d told him your dreams weren’t a big deal, but he knew.
“Dreams again?”
“Y-Yeah.”
“Tell me about this one.”
“You g-got crushed by a m-massive stack of papers a-and Lord Diavolo was just laughing. I couldn’t move, I-I wanted to help, I just-” You sighed, “Th-Then a big stack of paperwork started falling toward me too a-and I woke up before I got squished. I know it’s silly and ch-childish but it was terrifying. I hope I didn’t mess up your schedule.”
“That would be rather upsetting, I’m sorry MC,” He murmured, getting up for the whistling kettle, “But don’t think like that, it’s normal. One moment please.”
You nod and sink deeper into the luxurious warm cocoon the butler had made for you. He hands you a teacup and settles down next to you once again.
“Is there anything I can do to make these dreams stop?” He asks softly, dabbing your face with a handkerchief, “The Demon Lord requested for your utmost contentment during your stay, so-”
“C-Can I stay with you?” You blurted out, quickly taking a gulp of hot tea and instantly regretting it.
Even in the dim light, your convulsing form noticed a light pink tint on his cheeks as he rushed to get you water.
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Simeon
He’d only ever known Luke to have nightmares (since he is baby) so you can imagine… 
Deadass, when he wakes up to you writhing around and screaming at two in the morning, he almost called an exorcist
In the devildom
Does anyone else see the irony-
Nevermind
“LUKE, SOLOMON! WHAT’S WRONG WITH MC??? SHE’S CRYING AND SCREAMING ALL OF A SUDDEN, I THINK A DEAMON GOT HER-” *heavy scared boyfriend breathing*
Solomon was kicking Luke’s ass at Uno (yes, at two in the morning) so both of them follow the distressed angel back to his room
You’re awake, curled up in a little ball against the headboard, rocking back and forth and crying into Simeon’s pillow
“MC?” Luke asks, a little scared as he approaches the bed.
You lift your head just enough to see his pretty baby face and then reach for him, caressing his cheek to make sure the tiny angel was really there
“You ok?” He murmurs, resting one of his smaller hand on your own, “Bad dream I’m guessing?”
You nod, lip trembling with emotion and residual fear, “Don’t go-” You begged, “I don’t know where Simeon went…”
“I’m here love, right here.” The taller angel now knelt down next to where Luke was standing, took your other trembling hand, and pressed comforting kisses to your knuckles.
You whisper a soft ‘thank you’ to Luke and Solomon as they take their leave. As soon as the door shut behind them, Simeon slid under the blankets next to you and let you attach yourself to him like a koala while his pretty nose fell into your messy locks.
Gradually, your breathing went back to its normal, comforting tempo and you began to melt into his embrace. He seemed to radiate warmth to the very marrow of your bones and soon, everything was ok again.
“What’s troubling you so, love? What caused this?” He asks, running slender fingers through your tousled locks.
“I don’t know,” You sigh, breathing in his heavenly musk, “I guess I’ve been a lot more stressed than usual. Exams are coming up and it’s hard to study when I’m at the brother’s beck and call since they can’t get along for more than 3 seconds. Plus, these classes are a lot more difficult than the ones we have in the human world.”
The angel nods, giving you a squeeze and a reassuring kiss to the crown of your head, “I can see why. Unlike you, most humans are very simple minded and plain dumb. I’ve already learned this material because of my ranking as an angel, so if you need a tutor, I’m here to help, sweetheart.”
“I’d like that.” You smile, tender aquamarine orbs meeting your own before closing and lips meeting for a slow, sensual dance of your unbounded love for eachother. Your interlocked fingers gave a squeeze before he released you, panting.
“Anything for my seraph.”
387 notes · View notes
ibijau · 4 years ago
Note
Can I request Yanqing? Prompt 67 - “I’m doing this.” “Then I’m going with you." Thank you!
(Untamed verse bc Yanli wouldn’t have been around when wwx confronts jzxun in the novel)
There’s just something off about Wei Wuxian.
Of course, there’s always something off about Wei Wuxian these days, Jiang Yanli reflects. He’s always angry, always on edge, snapping at everyone, acting insolently… She would never dare to say it out loud for fear of hurting him, but Jiang Yanli feels sometimes that Wei Wuxian has become the person her mother always accused him to be, reckless and selfish and endangering their sect simply to stroke his ego.
She hates those thoughts when they come to her.
Others might say what they will about Wei Wuxian, but she knows him better than that. There’s a reason he’s like this, there has to be.
Jiang Yanli knows about secrets. She has a few of her own, or else she’d have already accepted Jin Zixuan’s clumsy attempt at courting, wouldn’t she? And just as she's hiding hers, so deep that nobody ever thinks she's capable of hiding anything, not her, not sweet naive and weak Jiang Yanli, she knows there's something lurking beneath the surface of Wei Wuxian's disdain. 
She listens attentively as Wei Wuxian comes for Jin Zixun's throat, ordering him around, demanding he be told where to find… 
And here, Jiang Yanli almost cries out. 
Wei Wuxian is looking for Wen Ning. 
She knows those Wen siblings, they're like her and her brothers, never far apart, never for long. Where Wen Ning is, Wen Qing will be found as well. Jiang Yanli hasn't found a trace of her… her friend, not since the war ended. Of course she couldn't have asked Jiang Cheng, who wouldn't understand, or Wei Wuxian, who… well, he had his own trouble. Jin Zixuan assured her that all surviving Wen were being treated with more kindness than they would have done for others had they won, but by his own admission he hasn't been involved in dealing with them, the task left to his cousin and half-brother. 
Her heart wild with worry, Jiang Yanli discreetly follows Wei Wuxian when he leaves Jinlin Tai. He doesn’t notice her. Nobody ever does, of course, but Jiang Yanli is hardly good at these sorts of things, so she’s irrationally cross at him, even knowing he’d send her back if he noticed her. She follows him through just outside of Jinlin Tai, hoping and hoping and hoping, until at last Wei Wuxian stops next to a beggar wearing rags that might once have been red.
Wen Qing all but leaps into Wei Wuxian’s arms as he whispers something to her, and Jiang Yanli’s heart skips a beat.
Wen Qing is alive after all.
Having seen her, Jiang Yanli can finally admit to herself how terrified she was that the dear friend she made in the Cloud Recesses had died, another casualty in that horrifying war, her head mounted on a spike somewhere like they did to Wen Xu and many others. It is such a relief to see Wen Qing again, to see her alive, that Jiang Yanli throws caution to the wind and stumbles forward to join the other two, pulling her dear friend into a tight hug.
“Shijie!” Wei Wuxian gasps. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to help,” Jiang Yanli replies, letting go of Wen Qing, only to immediately take her hands. Her skin is cold, and she’s lost so much weight since they last saw each other. Jiang Yanli wants to bathe her, dress her in finer clothes, feed her. She wants to take Wen Qing somewhere safe, and keep her from harm for good. “What’s going on? A-Xian, you said something about Wen Ning earlier?”
Wen Qing shivers, and looks ready to cry. Jiang Yanli squeezes her hands with as much tenderness as she dares. She listens attentively as Wei Wuxian explains the situation, the Wen of Dafan Mountain being in danger, Wen Qing begging him for help, the Jin’s lies.
“I’m going to Qiongqi path right away to rescue the Wen,” Wei Wuxian announces in a wary tone, as if expecting resistance, but Jiang Yanli only nods.
From the start, her brother has favoured Wen Ning, treating him as a little brother… or something like it, anyway. Jiang Yanli has seen how happy Wei Wuxian was playing with Wen Ning in the Cloud Recesses, how he trusted that boy who should have been their enemy when Jiang Cheng was hurt… and of course she hasn’t missed the way Wen Ning always looked at Wei Wuxian like he hung the moon and stars.
“Then I’ll protect Wen guniang,” Jiang Yanli offers. “I’ll keep her safe with me until…”
“No, I have to go with Wei gongzi,” Wen Qing objects weakly. “A-Ning might need my help, or the others. If they’re wounded, I’ll… No, I can’t stay behind. I’m doing this.”
“Then I’m going with you,” Jiang Yanli simply replies, squeezing Wen Qing’s hands. “You have to let me help.”
Wen Qing doesn’t smile, but her eyes shine with gratefulness… or maybe she’s just that close to crying.
“Shijie can’t come, it’s too dangerous,” Wei Wuxian says. “It’ll also attract too much attention, and it’s not good for your health to be horse-riding such a long distance.”
Horse-riding, not flying a sword, Jiang Yanli notes. She expected Wei Wuxian to say he can’t carry two people, since Wen Qing doesn’t appear to have a sword anymore, and Jiang Yanli’s health doesn’t allow her to fly. It’s so odd. Wei Wuxian is a strong flyer, with a solid golden core, he should be able to fly to Qiongqi path with Wen Qing, so why take horses instead?
It makes no sense.
“I am not that weak,” Jiang Yanli protests, unwilling to be parted from the dear friend she’s only just found again. “And if I am present, I might exert more authority than you upon those people.”
“Or else everyone in the cultivation world will say I kidnapped you,” Wei Wuxian points out. “And then they’ll run after us to rescue you, and Wen Ning will be left to his fate. It’s safer if you don’t come. This doesn’t concern you, shijie, so let me deal with it alone.”
Because it concerns you, of course it concerns me, Jiang Yanli almost replies. Because it concerns Wen Qing, it also concerns me, she’d be tempted to add.
But that would only start a long argument, and Wei Wuxian is right about one thing: Wen Ning cannot be left to his fate. Besides, Jiang Yanli can find other ways to help.
“I understand,” she says, a touch too meekly. She sees a slight crease between Wen Qing’s eyebrows, and it pleases her that the other woman finds it odd for her to give in so easily, that she knows Jiang Yanli well enough for that. “I will stay behind… please be careful, both of you.”
“Don’t tell Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian simply says, sounding oddly on edge at the idea her brother might be involved.
A horrible, terrible idea starts to form in her mind at the memory of those days they spent in Wen Qing’s house, so desperate to find a way for Jiang Cheng to regain his golden core, and how he never seems to do any sort of regular cultivation these days.
With hardly so much as a shiver, Jiang Yanli puts that suspicion aside. Later. She’ll deal with this later.
“I won’t say a word to him,” Jiang Yanli easily promises. “Go now, time is of the essence.”
Wei Wuxian nods. Wen Qing hugs her, just a touch too tight, as if expecting it’ll be the last time. Jiang Yanli has been hugged by Wen Qing for the last time repeatedly, so she knows how that feels of course.
Jiang Yanli watches as two of the three people she holds dearest in the world leave together for a rescue mission that she cannot imagine going well, not with Wei Wuxian’s temper these days. She watches on until she’s sure they’re gone, then heads back inside Jinlin Tai, her pace slow and careful to avoid attracting attention.
The men inside the banquet hall are all shouting and arguing, accusing Wei Wuxian of every crime under the sky, making it sound as though Jiang Cheng is weak for not keeping his head disciple under control. Jiang Yanli ignores them all, and they ignore her back. Sometimes it pays to have little presence.
While everyone argues, Jiang Yanli makes her way to Jin Zixuan’s side and pulls lightly on his sleeve. She would have expected it’d take effort to get his attention, but he instantly turns to look at her, and even tries to smile at her.
“Jiang guniang, I’m sure there’s a misunderstanding,” Jiang Zixuan says. “Since you’ve vouched for him, I believe Wei Wuxian cannot be that bad, or he wouldn’t have your trust. I’m sure we’ll sort this out, once everyone calms down.”
Jiang Yanli smiles back. If there weren’t more urgent things to consider, she’d be touched by his trust, by his gentleness.
“Jin gongzi, as it happens, I need your help,” she says in a low whisper, glad for the noise around them that hides her words. “I need to get to that place your cousin mentioned, Qiongqi path, and I need to get there quickly, but I cannot fly, and I cannot ask my brother.”
The smile on Jin Zixuan’s handsome face disappears, replaced by a severe expression as he glances around and tries to decide what to do. Jiang Yanli wouldn’t even blame him if he turned her down, not in the current political climate, not when his own cousin has just been assaulted. If this doesn’t work, then Jiang Yanli will try with someone else. That nice second Jade of Gusu Lan perhaps. Or else…
But she doesn’t need to think of an alternative. Jin Zixuan nods shortly, and discreetly motions for her to go back outside. She obeys, and he quickly joins her, sword in hand.
Flying is quicker than horses, so they’ll get there before Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing, and if Wen Ning is in any danger, they’ll save him.
And then…
Then it will be another problem.
But Jiang Yanli has just found Wen Qing again and she’s not going to let anyone take her dear friend from her again.
41 notes · View notes
ghoulciifer · 4 years ago
Note
hewoo🥺can you write hcs on tendou and iwaizumi comforting their s/o who is sad because of their bad relationship with their father,like not in any abusive way but their dad is distant and emotionally unavailable:/
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HC: Tendou and Iwaizumi helping an S/O with an emotionally unavailable father.
TW: Parental Neglect/Distancing, idk how to properly identify this trigger but I will be writing about some potentially heavy stuff in regards to parental instability so be wary of that if you wish to proceed.
TAGS: Emotional unavailability, hurt/comfort, angst
NOTES: Hi anon, thank you for requesting this, bby! This ask hit super close to home so I felt very confident that it was something I could write. While I might not have had these sweet boys to help me through my time, I hope these headcanons bring some sort of comfort to anyone dealing with this situation. And anon, if you yourself are dealing with this, know that I understand and I love you dearly ❤️ It’s not easy but it can be bearable. My inbox is always open, honeybun. (also we’re not gonna talk about how i switched tenses w each hc shhhh)
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if you couldn’t tell by my url, i love tendou dearly, bby boy is my level of crackhead energy
literally the biggest asshole when it comes to teasing but i mean, you know he loves you
which is probably how he found out about your situation in the first place
y’all were probably joking around, making aggressive jabs at each other, name calling, the whole nine yards
“tendou you look like a fuckin’ troll doll, do not tell me I need a haircut”
“well y/n, anyone would be a damn troll for dating you”
you get the picture
it wasn’t until he made an off-handed comment about your dad not loving you that your mood INSTANTLY dropped
your chest got tight, your skin went numb, all breath from your lungs just WHOOSH
when he saw the tears slip from the brims of your eyes he finally stopped talking and lept to your side
he grabbed your face with both hands and started spewing apologies after asking what was wrong, he knew you liked to joke around with him like that but you never cried from something he said before
that’s when you sat him down (after some cuddles n kisses uwu) and explained everything to him
about your dad’s emotional unavailability, how you constantly pushed yourself in everything you did to get any sort of feedback from him, how you wanted to have that relationship everyone else seemed to have with their fathers
“it feels stupid to say but... i’ll never know what it feels like to be a daddy’s girl/boy.”
the whole time he’d listen intently, just soak up every word that came out of your mouth and nod occasionally to show that he was actively retaining the info
he’d have an arm slung around you and the other hand gently rubbed your thigh with his thumb, it only left the spot once or twice to wipe a stray tear from your face
and when you finished he went silent for a moment to really think it over. usually he’d be quicker with responses, but he didn’t want to potentially make you feel worse
he’d connect the dots during this process: he actually understood why you worked so hard all the time, why you got so happy when he praised you for the smallest things, why you always seemed to derail any conversations about your parents
he’d tell you that he might not understand what being isolated by a parent may feel like, but he definitely understands being cast out. he’d want you to understand that he truly felt for you, and you don’t have to be alone despite how your father makes you feel.
lowkey he’d probably offer to talk to your dad but that was just his protective crackhead slippin’ out, give him a head pat and firmly tell him no and that it’s okay
he said it gently but you definitely saw one of his eyebrows twitch and the look in his eye
he doesn’t want anyone makin’ his baby feel this way 🥺
once he managed to make you laugh with either that attempt of yelling at your dad or just crack a stupid joke that NEVER failed to make you giggle
he’d pull you into another hug and apologize on your neglectful dad’s behalf
“I know this won’t change anything, but I’m so sorry y/n... you deserve the world and more.”
then he’d tickle you again just to hear your sweet voice wail his name in a fit of laughter, it’s music to his ears
from then on he made the effort to check up on you, tell you how proud he was, how great you were doing at XYZ
bc although he couldn’t replace your dad, he would do his damndest to be your “emotional support daddy” i’m taking this term w me to the grave
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i’m so so sorry but i never write for iwa so this might be a lil’ short or ooc pls don’t come for my neck i’m trying
but ooooooh iwa-chan
he probably won’t really connect the dots as quick as tendou would but it’s fine, it’ll work out
so you were tossing a volleyball back and forth at a park or smth
and this motherfucker was being so critical over everything you did
“y/n drop your shoulders”
“your feet aren’t wide enough apart”
“no, thumb over the palm, like this”
“HAJIME IF YOU’RE JUST GONNA CRITIQUE ME GO PLAY WITH FLATTY-KAWA, THEN”
this is why he was the volleyball player of the relationship, smh
but he just chuckled and half-apologized, making a joke about how he felt bad for your dad playing catch w you as a kid under his breath
boy did your shoulders drop then
your whole body slumped and the ball fell flat in front of you
Iwa gave you a confused look before seeing how wide your eyes went, the wetness steadily forming in the corners and the way your bottom lip trembled
“hey, hey, what’s wrong? did I really coach you too hard?”
he quickly walked over to you and pulled you into his chest, pressing a sweet lil kiss to the side of your head, a hand rubbing up and down your back
you shook your head and clung onto his shirt, the tears you were choking on making your mouth unable to move in response while your whole body trembled with the sudden overflow of emotion
meanwhile iwa’s just like ??? what did i do ???
clueless
but he held your through your crying fit and waited until you stopped sniffling and hiccuping to finally ask what was wrong, pulling you into his lap as he sat down on the grass
dude still thinks he just nagged you too much lol
you explained that you really didn’t have the best relationship with your dad, that your childhood was mostly spent playing by yourself and learning how to do certain things alone or through others
growing up happened way too fast for you and it was hard for you to actually enjoy it without a father figure who made an effort to connect with you, even now.
he’s got his hand rubbing up and down your back while you talk, cheek smushed on your head as he hums in acknowledgment ever so often
now he gets it.
he’s silent for a moment, then moves to press a gentle kiss to your temple before speaking
“I’ll help you out, with everything.”
He wants to be there for you for whatever milestones you have yet to complete, considering your father was never there for the ones you did.
he ALSO wants to shit on your dad for treating you poorly but he just keeps that to himself prolly plotting to do it on his own one day oml
he reassures you that he’s proud of how far you’ve gotten on your own without that fatherly guidance, and that he’ll never let you feel so alone and helpless again.
he’ll teach you everything you need to learn
“...and I promise to be a better volleyball coach, too.”
124 notes · View notes
todo-ho-ki · 4 years ago
Text
In honor of me never writing a single fucking word for the stories I’m still actually working on, I wanted to do something, anything at all, and obviously right now I’m fixating on haikyu instead of BNHA so welcome to...
Chances I’d Fight the Haikyu Boys and the Likelihood I’d Win
KARASUNO
Daichi 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 0/10 he’s a master of being cool and respectful he wouldn’t give me a reason to square up
Chances I’d win- Manz could crush me with his thighs alone one kick and I’m in the afterlife BUT he wouldn’t fight a lady so 1/10
Suga 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 1/10 a bitch might consider for money or something but otherwise. HEEEELLLL NO
Chances I’d win: suga seems lovely but Manz is as unhinged as his jaw will be when he swallows my arm whole after I try to punch him 2/10
Asahi 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: -3/10 he’s a soft boy I’d never fight him but +2 bc I might give him a gentle arm punch if need be. Overall -1/10
Chances I’d win: he only LOOKS scary but he wouldn’t hurt a fly tbh he’s probably scared of flies and looking like an asshole for fighting back 9/10 -1 point because Manz got REACH and COULD take me out if he wanted
Noya 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 4/10 he can be a little shit sometimes I stg
Chances I’d win: -1/10 he could jump on me and bite my jugular out I ain’t fuckin w/him. +2 points bc he’s a simp so he probably WOULDNT...but he COULD. Overall 1/10
Tanaka 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 6/10 he do be antagonizing sometimes and I swear if he SAY SOME SHIT TO ME...
Chances I’d win: mans could probably ACTUALLY win a fight hes full of energy and he could probs give me a look and I’d get scared 3/10 bc I don’t think he’d fight me either he’s a GENTLEMAN OK
Kageyama🏐
Chances I’d fight him: -50/10 bitch is SCARY and I know he’ll throw hands I’ve seen it
Chances I’d win: kageyama DO NOT GIVE A FUCK he’s broody in general and have you SEEN HIS SERVES he could slap me into next week(I’d thank him OOP) -370/10
Hinata 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: -500/10 Hinata is best boy I’d never lay a hand on him
Chances I’d win: I’d say 10/10 but I’ve SEEN that look in his eyes I don’t wanna know what it means so 6/10
Tsukishima 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: Manz knows all the buttons to press he’s a salty MF 8/10 but not 10/10 cuz he looks hot sometimes
Chances I’d win: he’d probably say something that makes me cry and id get distracted and he’ll walk away 2/10 cuz I could take him if I could see past the tears
Yamaguchi 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: -60,000/10 yams is a ray of SUNSHINE I could NEVER
Chances I’d win: here’s where things get tricky. He’s friends with Tsuki so he’s def got the sass and shit I think he’d be the one to secretly be able to THROW DOWN 3/10
NEKOMA
Kuro 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: -530,000/10 I LOVE him sm I simp too hard I can’t ruin that pretty face and that smirk NO ABSOLUTELY NOT
Chances I’d win: Manz is like a tree he could hold me at bay w/one of those buff-ass arms or crush my head with his thighs and since id let him, -6/10. minus three points cuz he’d charm me out of fighting
Kenma 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 7/10 BAD BITCH GOT A ATTITUDE, NASTY
Chances I’d win: Kenma’s spicy and he WILL fight but I got too much strength on him so 9/10 I think he’d pull out some moves before giving up
Lev 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 4/10 sometimes he’s just...REALLY stupid and arrogant which makes my eye twitch but minus 4 points bc he’s a big softie
Chances I’d win: his arm alone is longer than my body even if he couldnt fight he could swing blindly and accidentally hit the part of my brain responsible for consciousness in a panic. Also 4/10
Yaku 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: absolutely not I love his sassy attitude he be talkin shit sometimes 0/10 plus three points bc sometimes hed aim his tude at me and I STG
Chances I’d win: Manz is small but ready to pounce he’d jump on my back like a spider monkey and punch my skull till it caves in RIP me. 4/10 plus 2 points bc hed take it out on Lev instead
Fukunaga 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 0/10 Manz never did nothin to nobody
Chances I’d win: he’d probably say something so funny I’d die from lack of oxygen w/o ever getting a hit in 3/10 if I can breathe I can get his ass
SEIJOH
Oikawa 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: depends on the day but a solid 6/10 he’s a little bitch sometimes but we love to see it. I also don’t wanna be messin up that pretty ass face
Chances I’d win: if he REALLY wanted to he could serve me into a different reality but he wouldn’t fight unless he ABSOLUTELY had to so I could get his ass too. Pre time skip: 19/10. Minus 63 points because I KNOW 27 year old oikawa would WRECK MY SHIT and I’d say please sir may I have some more
Iwaizumi 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: yo, you out to DAMN MIND??? -100,000/10
Chances I’d win: look. LOOK. Iwa Chan’s biceps are bigger than my head I mean NOTHING to him. I’m but a pebble to a god. He got a 6’7” attitude cuz he can swing like a 6’7” man. He could probably pull his dick out once and obliterate me with the seismic aftershock of it hitting the ground. -1235/10 minus six points bc ID LET HIM KILL ME
Yahaba 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: solid 7/10 KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS
Chances I’d win: see, you’d THINK this would be where I’d have the upper hand but Manz manhandled mad dog and lived. He’d slam me into a wall until my soul leaves my body right where I stand 3/10 bc he be simpin. Minus 3 points because I’d enjoy it
Mattsun 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: pre time skip:0/10
post time skip: -57/10 I ain’t putting my hands on a face that pretty
Chances I’d win: I’m doomed. He’d give me one look and I’d cave. Im walking out the broom closet limping but not bc of a fight. -41/10
Kiyotani 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: we’ll go with a solid -5/10 for...reasons
Chances I’d win: if I actually stood up to him he’d freeze in place but he could slap me into a different country if provoked 1/10
Kunimi 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 0/10 we love a man who’s emotionally detached plus he’s hot tf
Chances I’d win: Manz would give up halfway through if he even indulged in the first place. 6/10 minus three points bc I’d win by default after he walks away
INARIZAKI
Kita 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: he’s a good boy -3/10
Chances I’d win: respectable guy but I have no doubt he’d rock my shit I’m ascending to the astral plane 1/10
Osamu 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: uh-uh. 0/10
Chances I’d win: he’s the aggressive twin. One flying kick to the heart and it’s across the gym and I’m dead as FUCK. 2/10 minus 2 points bc PLEASE put your hands on me sir
Atsumu 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: a soft 4/10 he’s a BRAT buuuuuut I love him so fucking much I’d let it go
Chances I’d win: he’s all bark and no bite. Srry bby but you’re gettin FOLDED I love you though. 88/10. minus 370 points bc please spend the rest of your life with me I could never hurt you 🥺
Aran 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: -5/10 he’s so sweet why would you fight him
Chances I’d win: he’d serve a volleyball into the back of my head and I take +10 damage from how cool it looks. Can fit my face in one hand probably. -43/10 minus ten points because of how cool he’d look killing me instantly
Suna 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 2/10 he’s a little shit too he’d make someone record it
Chances I’d win: he’d try to fuck me instead. It would work. 1/10 bc I’d slap him afterward but like, sexily
FUKURODANI
Bokuto 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 3/10 emo mode GOTS TO GO
Chances I’d win: his ass would pull me into it’s orbit and he’d use the opportunity to crush me with his thighs. -6/10. Minus 4 points bc what a FUCKING way to go please kill me
Akaashi 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 1/10 he’s intimidating you kidding me NO
Chances I’d win: I could take him if he’s distracted by Bokuto. 6/10 if he is, 1/10 if he’s not
Konoha 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: -3/10 we love a sassy boy
Chances I’d win: I’m not maiming a face that pretty -28/10 I’d get lost in his eyes tf
SHIRATORIZAWA
Ushijima 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: none and a half I couldn’t even look at him. -.5/10
Chances I’d win: one smack would knock my organs out of my body. Big boy+big body=big death even if he misses the aftershock will stop my heart -67/10 minus four points bc RAIL ME
Tendou 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 14/10 SQUARE UP BITCH
Chances I’d win: WELCOME TO HELL. YOUVE MADE A MISTAKE 36/10
Shirabu 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: 0/10 he’s too cool
Chances I’d win: he wouldn’t show. Too busy getting his hair cut. I win by default. 10/10 minus four points bc there would be no fight
Semi 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: I wouldn’t. 0/10. He’d give me the semi brow and I’d be down and out for the count. I’m not hitting a face that pretty.
Chances I’d win: 2/10. Minus three points bc he’d smash a guitar over my head, killing me instantly. Minus three more points bc I’d ask him to wear a leather jacket first
Goshiki 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: None. 0/10. His words and his bangs are as cool as ever.
Chances I’d win: he’d cry if I looked at him wrong. 86/10 but minus four points bc he’s baby
EXTRAS
Sakusa 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: surprisingly high. 7/10 bc a bitch got a attitude. Minus 8 points because he’s so fucking beautiful I don’t know if I could follow through
Chances I’d win: I’d just lick my hands before I started swinging and he’d leave. 8/10. Minus two points bc I think if he REALLY needed to square up he’d take me down in a fucking headlock until I pass out. Minus two more points because I’d ask him to squeeze harder.
Ukai jr. 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: that’s the wrong F word kids 😏. -34/10 besides I ain’t squaring up with a man that wears a headband like that
Chances I’d win: he probably could eat a bowl of nails for breakfast without any milk. -99/10. Minus 15 points bc I’d stop to ask him if he wants to finish this at my place
Hiragumi 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: why would you fight such a good, PRETTY boy? -5/10
Chances I’d win: he’d smile at me and I’d give up. -12/10
Takeda 🏐
Chances I’d fight him: I think he’d kill me honestly. Plus the boys would’ve never had a chance w/o him absolutely NOT -2/10
Chances I’d win: he’s hiding a demon from hell under that green jacket. -60/10
Terushima🏐
Chances I’d fight him: sheeeit I could try but his sexiness would leave me paralyzed. 1/10 if I look at enough pictures I could get past his fucking blonde undercut and tongue ring
Chances I’d win: he’d have my thighs around his head in 1.8 seconds. Will kill me with his tongue. -435/10
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purplepalmdelight · 4 years ago
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why life is still okay (rambling fic rec pt. 1)
firstly: shout out to @trulyalpha for apparently owning my entire bookmarks page on ao3 (bc i only realised all my favourite fics were written by the same person,,, yesterday. bc im really smart like that) anyway breakdown of why she’s a stoncy saving grace thanks!!!
you ease my mind, you make everything feel fine.
(https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842039)
yes this fic is from 2018. yes i read it every other week. it’s good for the SOUL. jonathan getting taken care of is always just such a good and sweet concept (maybe it’s my intense, undying love of him, but he deserves to be taken care okay) and. okay i’ll admit, sometimes i forget how fucking FUNNY this fic is, but it’s genuinely hilarious, okay? you gotta trust me on this. it makes me cackle at inappropriate times absurdly often. ("Hi." "Hi." "I want you, you fuck." is a top line. i laugh so hard every TIME.) all three of them are so incredibly in character, and somehow this NAILS the fact that they’re all massive disasters pretending to be confident. and i’m not someone that reads ~smut~ often (though it’s more mentioned than described, very non-explicit) but this didn’t make me even the least bit uncomfortable. it felt very natural and in character and made me laugh as much as the rest of the story. all in all, i always come away a little more in love with the characters, and that’s a really precious feeling.
you could be the one to make me feel something
(https://archiveofourown.org/works/14269476/chapters/32912745)
i take back everything i’ve ever claimed. this IS the funniest piece of writing i’ve ever read, and it WILL remain so, probably until the day i die. i honestly... barely have words. my expectations were high when i started it, but in retrospect, they were LEAGUES below what i got. the characterisation, the progression, the dialogue, the story; from the overarching aspects to the tiny details, it’s impeccable. i genuinely read this twice in one day, and then again the next. every single part of it is so good, but in terms of FAVOURITES... the christmas section. hilarious. down to its bones, well crafted and heart felt. it hits me right in the chest every time. the story, from the beginning, has me just as in love with nancy and steve as jonathan is, and as everything grows more intense, so does my investment. it pulls me in and doesn’t let me go until it’s good and ready to see me leave. again, the sexy aspects are so in character and natural that it’s uncomfortable or weird to read and instead just leave me grinning like an idiot. also ( “It did frustrate me, in more ways than one. It’s also a weird plan, like … did you expect me to be so overwhelmed by the power of a boner that I’d just admit my feelings?” is SUCH a funny line, i think about it literally every day. literally. every. day.) the characters are afraid to be messy, to make mistakes, and they all feel so ALIVE that when i leave the story, i feel like i’m leaving a friend. it’s honestly beautiful and honestly breathtaking. this story is better than a lot of published books, honestly, and i’m so grateful for it. so thank you.
i crash my car ‘cause i wanna get carried away!
(https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131202)
...you really wanted to make me cry, huh? i cried out of grief, yeah, out of the depth of nancy’s guilt and the pure rawness of her mourning, but i also cried out of catharsis as she came to terms, and out of laughter a few times. the bit about total eclipse of the heart as a motif was... that was so well done. i hate drawing comparisons, so please understand that this is criticism of a concept and not a particular story, but in so many stories then nancy’s grief feels... trivialised? that’s not quite the right word. romanticised, maybe. as someone who has lost a friend in the past, it’s just... it doesn’t feel realistic? and that’s okay, because it’s hard to nail something you haven’t experienced, and i wouldn’t wish the experience on anyone. it’s just that stories like this, where i can really resonate with nancy and follow the journey of her recovery WITH her are so rare. this story is a gem, it really is. i don’t love it for all the same reasons as the others, but i love it fiercely all the same.
there’s nothing magic going on, and then along came you
(https://archiveofourown.org/works/14994137)
sure, you could be the one is the funniest fic i’ll probably ever read, but nothing magic is such a close second. it’s laugh-out-loud, get-tears-in-your-eyes, fall-out-of-your-chair, and it’s also so goddamn SWEET i can hardly stand it. of the several fics i generally group together in my head (nothing magic, you could be the one + its sequels (might have to make an individual post about this series), laugh until we think we’ll die, and got nothing for you; all very similar, yet incredibly unique) nothing magic is the shortest, but that doesn’t mean it compromises on quality, oh no. it just means i can read it quicker, and therefore more often! when it’s late and i’m tired and i need a laugh to calm down before i sleep, i generally go search this fic up. remember when i mentioned the whole “being just as in love with nancy and steve as jonathan is” thing? it’s like that except... almost funnier. in you could be the one, it’s just that the story naturally tugs you into adoring these two messy, silly, sweet, amazing young adults, because how could you not? how else could you possibly feel? but here, they are genuinely just... that funny. they are actually just so funny that you as a reader click with them and find yourself grinning like an IDIOT because oh my god you’re disasters. maybe it’s the inherent relatability of a tired highschooler trying to make it through the summer and hating his job along the way, but this fic hits right in the heart every damn time.
got nothing for you other than love
(https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596658)
"You trust me," she says.
They both know it's a fact, not question, but he still says, "Of course."
and
By then, his shell wasn't something he could step out of. It was part of him. But that was okay. He didn't need more. What he had was enough.
He always did have trouble with wanting more.
and
"Hey, babe?" Nancy turns her head to look at Steve, touching his shoulder. "Can you buy me a drink?"
"Sure thing. What d'ya want?"
"Surprise me. Not like that time we were here and you snuck out the store, went to a smoothie stand, and came back with a mango smoothie."
Steve grins. "But I did surprise you."
and
"Do you have food in the backseat?"
"The sandwich has only been there for like, two weeks—"
and
"Ugh. Too much cheese. I'm lactose-intolerant, remember?"
"False, you're not intolerant of anyone except people over the age of fifteen with bowl cuts and guys who wear shorts in the winter."
and
"Where are you off to? I'm your only friend," Kali says, frowning.
and
"You good, man?"
"Yeah," he says, his throat dry, "I'm great."
"Yeah, you are," Nancy says, and he is. He is.
and i can’t continue because that’s, like, barely halfway into the fic and i’ve already skipped so many of my favourite lines and i would have to skip so many more. you see what i mean about sathana being funny as hell? and like all the others, it’s not just the humour here. i mean... it is, because it’s SO FUCKING FUNNY I LITERALLY CANNOT SAY THAT ENOUGH but the reason it’s so funny is because it’s so candid. it’s so smooth. the whole thing flows. you’re not left feeling that you’ve missed a piece or that anything was sacrificed; you just feel like you’ve read something incredible. this fic is an experience of its own that i honestly have never experienced before. it’s sweet, and it’s gentle, and it’s just so overwhelmingly good that i don’t think i’ll ever quite get over it. in short? it’s a blessing. my expectations were high, but holy fuck did you blow them to bits.
one more favourite line:
Things are ending, things are starting, and everything looks bright. It won't always be that way. The sun's got to set at some point. But, gazing up at the sky, at the pink bleeding into orange, Jonathan figures it'll have to rise again. No matter what happens, these two things are constant.
"Hey, you look awfully lonely," Nancy calls out, walking towards him, reaching out to him with the hand not in Steve's.
Well. Maybe not just those two things.
that scene, in general, is beautiful, and it wraps the story up on such a genuine note. it feels like a film with how clearly i can picture it. it feels like no fic i’ve ever really read before. it feels... good. i guess i don’t really have the words. it just feels so good.
as an overall statement on why i call her my favourite author... it’s the realism. maybe that’s surprising, considering how many times i said “funny” or “hilarious” in here, but in the end, i wouldn’t be so attached to her work if it didn’t feel so real. i can open a tab and instantly get transported to a home i’ve never lived in. it’s comfortable. it’s sweet. and the dialogue/banter is always perfectly crafted. there’s just never really a downside to her fics, honestly. even if i wanted to search, i don’t think i’d find one. not even one of those “their only problem is that there’s not more to enjoy” kind of comments, because every single one feels perfectly crafted in its own right. it doesn’t need more or less. it stands for itself and it’s goddamn good at it.
i didn’t anticipate having to do multiple parts on this post, but- surprise surprise- i haven’t even gotten to my favourite one yet! so yeah, pt. 2 will be written after i finish the history essay trying to murder me, god knows when that is. in the meantime, please go give her some love and adoration. she deserves it.
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saey-bae · 7 years ago
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Flame - Jumin Han/Reader
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hiya, doll !! thanks for your request angst is my liiiife aside from fluff
you didn’t quite specify whether you wanted a hc or a fic, so i did end up writing a fic bc i felt like it bc there was enough material 
i feel like i should explain-- the title is called flame bc old flames and new flames y’know like........ love stuff.....
check out my masterpost here
warning: TRIGGER WARNING PLS. there is so much angst. there is violence. there is blood. there is rika. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
rest of the fic under the cut :))
A rustle of clothing and a gentle breath catches his attention.
Jumin thinks he can see a silhouette, but there are no pillars to hide behind in the grand --but empty-- ballroom he stands in. The ivory room seems to be completely devoid of anything; no furniture, no people, no music-- nothing.
And even though he knows this, Jumin still glances behind himself to see if someone is behind him... but there is no one there, despite the shadows he was certain he had seen in his peripheral vision. 
“Hello?” Jumin’s soft baritone voice rings out in the large room, but not a sound returns to his ears, not even an echo. Instead, an eerie, deafening silence settles in. 
He glances around again, feeling unsettled. Something doesn’t seem quite right; he can’t even remember how he arrived in such a place. The silence yields to his footsteps as he decides that looking around would probably provide some answers.
His dark eyes take in the elaborate marble sheet adorning the ivory wall towards his right, and he takes a few steps closer, until he’s a few inches away. He wants to reach out to touch them, to feel the cool, smooth stone beneath his fingertips, but something tells him it would be less than wise to do so. 
Something tells him touching anything in this room is certain to bring an unpleasant surprise, and his chest constricts at the thought. Why did the atmosphere hold such malice?
Jumin turns away from the glossy stone and walks around the room. It seems endless- no matter how long he walks, he doesn’t ever reach the marble decoration again. Strange.
Then, something ahead catches his eyes-- a door. It shines brilliantly with blood red jewels, sapphires, and emeralds. The doorknob itself was a gorgeous white crystalline bulb. 
It calls out for him, and forgetting that he shouldn’t touch anything, he reaches out for it. However, the moment his fingers brush the knob--
“Jumin?”
His heart leaps, pounding an unsteady rhythm at the sound of your voice, and he turns on his heel instantly. But your name dies on his lips as he sees the sight before him.
You’re kneeling on the unforgiving ceramic tiles, looking up at him with fear in your eyes. His mouth is dry, and he automatically starts walking towards you.
“No, stop!” Jumin’s eyes widen at your shriek and he clocks your outfit.
Someone has tied your hands behind your back and a black collar sits against your throat. Even from where he’s standing, he can see the ropes cutting into your wrists and the leather collar cutting into your neck. A flash of red flickers across his vision.
His worry is only matched by his anger now.
“Jumin.” This voice is equally, if not more, familiar, but it sends a chill down his spine. His dark eyes flicker up to meet vibrant green ones.
“Rika.” Her name falls from his lips, bittersweet.
That’s until he notices that she’s holding something in her hand. He squints, then freezes in place. A whip. 
“Rika...”
“I thought you loved me, Jumin?” The whip cracks and you bend over, crying out in pain. Both sounds echo in the large room, ringing in his ears. “Do you love this girl more than me?”
“No, stop!” He breaks out into a sprint before he knows it, running as fast as he can because oh god, please let him he needs to get there in time.
“I was the one who introduced you to her. I should be the one to take her away.” Rika whips you again casually, and you cry out a second time. Blood stains your shirt, runs down your soft skin in rivulets.  
“Jumin!”
The sound of your voice tore through him like a knife and he finds himself growing even more desperate to reach you.
But Jumin is no where near you. What should have been a mere fifteen feet away seems to be an endless distance now. He’s a nervous wreck, hands clenching and unclenching anxiously, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his palms. 
“You love me, don’t you, Jumin? Didn’t. You. Always?” She punctuates each word with a flick of her wrist.
No. No. Please, stop. His stomach churns and twists, his chest feeling unbearably tight. He doesn’t think he can breathe anymore.
“Just tell me you love me and I’ll stop.” How can her voice still be so soft, so delicate, when she’s performing such cruel acts? Rika smiles her beautiful smile, but it only makes his heart drop to his stomach.
I don’t love you is what he wants to say, but he’s at her mercy. Instead, what falls from his lips is, “Stop, Rika.”
Jumin’s voice is unsteady, his breaths ragged and uneven. Tears blur his vision and he can barely see at this point. He wipes them away desperately, only to see you crumpled on the ground, clothing soaked with blood. His heart is palpitating; he thinks it’s going to stop at any moment. 
The blonde only giggles as she raises the whip again, her peals of laughter echoing, the sound as beautiful as the church bells he used to hear during every mass.
It only haunts him now.
“Stop, don’t hurt her. Hurt me instead, but don’t-don’t touch her!” The whip cracks again as he reaches out for you. “MC!”
That's the last thing he remembers before he’s shaken awake. Gentle, intelligent eyes peer down at him and he realizes with a jolt that it’s you.
He sits up and his arms pull you to him instantly in a vice-like grip; you’re suddenly in his lap without warning. A dream. Oh, thank god, it was just a dream.
Jumin buries his face in your hair, jaw clenched tightly as he feels his throat tighten... but he can’t stop himself from letting out a small sob. 
“Oh, Jumin...” You wrap your arms around him, rubbing his back in small, soothing circles as he cried. Not one of those loud sobs, but those heartbreakingly silent ones, where his entire body shakes uncontrollably. 
It takes him a while to realize that he’s in bed. It takes him even longer to exhaust himself to the point where he falls silent, but he doesn’t let you go. He needs you with him right now, and you take it right into stride.
You murmur sweet nothings in Jumin’s ear, your fingers combing through his jet-black locks as you soothe him.
”Just a nightmare,” you’d whisper, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “I’m right here. I’m here for you.”
One of your hands close around his at some point, guiding his to your heart and letting it rest there. He doesn’t say a word, but he appreciates it. The thrum of your heart has never failed to put him at ease.  
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in, absorbing your warmth, seeking out your pulse. You’re alive. You’re well. You’re safe.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You kiss his temple. 
Jumin closes his eyes, listening to the steady beat of your heart. He shakes his head slowly, even as his arm tightens around you. After a long moment of silence, he murmurs in a barely audible voice, “I just want you to know that... I love you. You’re always going to be safe with me; I’m going to protect you.”
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folkloreguk · 7 years ago
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🎄 December 24th/25th 🎄
A/N: We made it to Christmas oh my god!!! I’m so proud of myself for posting this much throughout December, and at this point I really should say a gigantic thank you to everyone who has read my scenarios! The feedback was so sweet and made me so happy! I’m glad I could brighten up your days!
I want to say a very Merry Christmas to everyone who is reading this right now, I hope your holidays are great and I wish you all the happiness in the world for the new year! x (Even if you don’t celebrate Christmas, I still hope you have a great time!)
Another note: I know that people open their Christmas presents at different times in all countries, where I live we open them on the 24th, but I still chose to write about opening them in the morning of the 25th 
genre: fluff, smut (only partly), drabble 
here’s my jungkook advent calendar I did last year!
MASTERLIST  
Coming home for Christmas (December 24th):
you haven’t seen him in two weeks bc of work
it’s been really hard, you missed him loads
you would always message and call each other
but nothing compares to having him in your arms
especially in the Christmas time, you really wanted to have him with you
now it was finally time
he was coming home for Christmas
you’d wake up super early to pick him up from the train station
it was snowing and really cold outside
you’d have the heating turned on in your car
and you’d have this feeling in the pit of your stomach
like a small child on Christmas
just that Christmas wasn’t what you were so happy about
you’d feel so warm inside thinking about finally being with him again
you’d realize once more how in love you were
at the train station you wouldn’t even care about the cold anymore
you would stand by the tracks and wait for the train to arrive
even though you could have waited inside the car
he’d text you “Be there in three minutes”
the longest three minutes of your life
by the end of them your nose and cheeks would be freezing
you’d hear the sound of the train before you saw it
you’d hear the bells that signaled its arrival
when it finally came into the station your heart would make jumps
the doors would open and a sea of people would come your way
you’d stand back and watch, furrowing your brows
then you’d see his familiar frame
you would look at him before he had noticed you
he would find you grinning happily and smile back
he’d be carrying a big suitcase
but it wouldn’t stop him from hurrying to get to you
it would literally be like in the movies
you’d both open your arms really widely
it would be the best hug ever I’m telling you
he’d bury his face in your hair and quietly say “hi, baby”
he would smell and feel like home
you might just tear up a little tbh
you’d barely want to let go of him
you’d be holding on to his arm tightly on the way to the car
he’d steal like five kisses before you even made it there
plus: kissing at every red light and there would be a lot
at home you’d help him unpack
you would literally stick to each other like glue
but neither of you found it a bad thing
you’d cook together in the evening and maybe have some friends or family over???
maybe you’d also just spend the evening alone
just the two of you, like you haven’t done it in such a long time
smut below this part, there’s more fluff after it, just skip this bit if you want to
you’d literally have the slowest and most affectionate sex ever
even though you’d been so sexually frustrated, you’d take it slow
he would be so gentle
to make sure you’d know all the things he missed about you
like kiss pretty much every inch of your body
his hands would be so soft on your skin
and at the same time so teasing and loving
he’d hold your hands when it was down to the actual sex
there would be lots of slow and deep kissing
and eye contact!!! pls end me why am I so weak for this soft stuff
lots of sweet nothing would be whispered
you’d basically want to stop time because of how perfect it was rip me
no smut anymore!!!
CHRISTMAS MORNING!!!!!
you’d open your eyes and instantly smile really sleepily
you’d turn around in bed for some cuddles of your boyfriend
but??? he wasn’t there
was he already opening the presents you’d prepared under the tree??
you’d want to get up and find him but then your bedroom’s door opened
“You’re up,” he’d state and smile at you cutely
he’d be wearing a Christmas sweater and sweatpants
you’d whine at him to come back to bed and cuddle
“You need to come open your presents, jagi”
“I can open them later, I want to cuddle you now”
but he’d be stubborn
usually he loved cuddling in the morning but for some reason he didn’t that day
after some minutes he’d have you allured into the living room
there was a really big present standing there, and you knew you hadn’t placed it there
“This is for you,” he’d say and give you the proudest smile ever
you’d begin ripping the paper and guessing what in the world it could be
you’d end up with a cardboard box
you’d try to move it around and knock to figure out what was inside
suddenly he’d make a face and said “be careful!”
you’d be so confused
then you’d hear a sound from inside the box
“No you didn’t,” you’d say
the box would be opened in light speed
there it was
a small, fluffy puppy scratching at the box wall and looking up at you
you’d probably start crying (I would for sure)
you’d take it out and just kind of…have a happy breakdown
the two of you had talked about getting a puppy for a long time
he’d known exactly which were your favorites
“Do you understand now why you had to get up? I couldn’t leave this buddy in his box for such a long time,” he’d say
you’d just stare at him while you held the puppy in your arms
he would smile so big because of how happy he had made you
let’s just say it was the best Christmas and you completely forgot about all other presents for like an hour
Merry Christmas everyone!!!! x
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inkstainedfanfics · 7 years ago
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A Variety of Drabbles and Unfinished Ideas
Under the cut, I’ve compiled a variety of free writing, warm ups, and first drafts of some of my work. Nothing’s super long and some of it is even cut off midsentence bc I must have had to leave or gotten an idea while writing it. I just thought it’d be fun to post a bit of it, unrevised.
If any of the ideas/themes in the works below inspire you, feel free to use the idea! Just tag me, please, so I can see where you take it! Or if there’s something you’d like me to try to return to, hmu.
Included Below (in order) is writing for: Newt Scamander, Cedric Diggory, Dean Winchester, Cullen Rutherford, Alistair Theirin, and my drabble series.
                                              Newt Scamander
Newt never expected to get here, to find himself embroiled so deeply in a cause he once claimed to never believe in. Yet here he stands on granite steps, a ring with a diamond turning over and over in his hands. His stomach’s little more than a bundle of nerves and nausea at this point and he thinks it can’t get any worse as the organ starts, but then he sees you and Merlin in high heaven, he knows he’d follow you through anything if you only asked.
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                                                          • Newt’s hands are unfamiliar.
The realization makes you freeze where you stand, a plate slipping through your fingers and shattering against the tile floor. You don’t know him, you realize, as you stare at the cabinet without seeing it. Whatever they did to you in that lab, it had long-lasting effects.                                                           • He met you in the Great Hall, grabbing your arm as you tripped over him. You’d said your apology with a shimmering laugh that made his heart beat in a funny way he’d never felt before. Just exploring the stars above, you’d explained, pointing out the dark ceiling hanging above you. He’d looked up then back down when you pointed out a penguin the stars formed. You just have to look at it the right way, you said, eyes half closed and head tilted nearly ninety degrees. Then you’d looked back down at him and asked if he wanted to explore with you and he’d said yes with a weird feeling in his gut, an airy one that meant he had found the one.
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                                                          • Newt jolts up as Jacob’s hand claps him on the shoulder. “I need your help.”
Newt’s eyes dart to you for a second, taking in your amused grin, before he clears his throat and looks back to Jacob. “What for?”
“It’s Queenie. She wants someone to dance with you.”
Newt’s face reddens instantly. “Sorry?”
“She wants someone to dance with you. She won’t dance with me until she finds you someone.”
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                                                          • “Does he like seeds?”
Newt crosses a line out in his rough draft before looking up at you. “Sorry?” You lift the tiny beast in your hands, completely uncaring of the sharp spikes covering the entire thing. “Does Rufus like seeds?”
Newt’s brows furrow as he watches you carefully press a kiss to its nose. “I… yes, he does.”
You light up, rearranging the unusual animal in your hands until the blue and grey striped creature sits happily in one hand. Reaching with your other hand, you grab a fistful of seeds and offer it to the beast.
“What did you call him?”
You glance at him, grinning as the beast nibbles at the food in your hand. “Rufus. I hope you don’t mind I named him. He’s just too cute to remain ‘unknown number one.’ Yes you are, aren’t you, you cutie pie?”
The creature puffs up the slightest bit, a show of contentment, and Newt finds himself doing the opposite, melting away, simultaneously warmed and surprised by this side of you.
You glance up at him again, lip caught between your teeth. “Is that all right?”
“Yes.” He nods, strange feeling filling his chest, “Yes, it is, no worry.”
And when you give him a relieved smile, he finds it hard to look away.                                                           • Newt’s focus isn’t on the bartender chatting it up with the woman next to him or the swing dance going on out on the floor, nor is it on splinter from the stool that’s certainly making its way into the back of leg or the stench of beer and vomit making its way from the nearby bathrooms. No, it’s solely on you and the feel of your hand gripping his a little tighter every time someone gets a little too close and the way you look as you laugh at his every joke.
You trust him, had asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend earlier with plenty of stuttering. “It only makes sense if it’s not the best bar. We keep each other safe. Like always.”
The thought warms him.
“Say,” Newt begins, playing with the tall glass in front of him, “I 
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                                                          •
It’s raining when it happens. Newt remembers that even now, years later, for the particular spontaneity of the situation.
A drought plagued the area at the time, yet as you paced and screamed and shouted and fumed and let your anger fill the dry air, a thunderstorm formed, fell, and dissipated. Newt’s not sure if the final crack was you apparating or gentle thunder.
Newt shakes the memory, peering up at Theseus. “Did you hear about her?” Theseus rubs his brow, sighing and leaning back in the heavy chair. “You don’t want to hear about this, little brother.”
Newt fights the urge to show his irritation. “I don’t believe you could possibly know that.”
“I know you, Newt. Better than you’d like to admit.”
Newt waits in the office, the chair beneath him creaking with every movement. He waits for the answer. Really, a war hero brother on good terms with the ministry is a blessing. Theseus can learn anything Newt wants to know.
“Well?”
Theseus grabs a box of cigars from the top drawer and lights it. “Mum asked about you.”
Fine, Newt will play this game. “Where is she?”
“She’s at home where she always is. Waiting for her dearest son to return.”
“Is she also waiting for her oldest son to grow up?”
Theseus grins, a wide smile that shows off his teeth and twists the scars on his face. “You always had that quick wit. Pity you never put it to use for anything productive.”
“Please, just tell me where she is.”
Newt thinks Theseus is reaching back into his drawer to offer a cigar to Newt, but instead he pulls out a slip of parchment covered in nearly illegible cursive. “Henry found it.”
“Thank you.”
With another sigh, Theseus leans back again. “Just don’t get yourself hurt.”        
                                      Cedric Diggory
Cedric’s hands land on your hips. His mischievous smile grows as his fingers begin to move.
“Ced,” you warn, grinning, “don’t you dare.”
“What shouldn’t I dare to do, exactly, hm?”
He doesn’t give you a chance to answer.
You shriek, laughing and trying to peel his hands from your waist. He doesn’t relent, eventually forcing you to back away: straight into a tree.
“Stop.” You giggle and, to your surprise, he does.
“I got you.” He murmurs, lips against yours.
“You sure did.” You say before kissing him.
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                                                          • Cedric watched you die right in front of his eyes, felt your hand loosen around his fingers, fade quickly and quietly into the unknown. Into a safety that he doesn’t have the something of knowing. He watches you become a nothing in this world of somethings. He himself follows suit, a nothing anymore. No one in Hogwarts wants to rally around him. His broomstick gathers dust in his closet. His golden hair fades to a dull amber that he may or may not have dyed when you disappeared, a color to match your personality. He himself dims, only bright part a gleaming pocketwatch, a way to remember you that no one else understands.
He drowned in the casseroles and jelly beans and bags upon bags of chocolate frogs. He died when you did. He doesn’t need those. Why does everyone think he wants them? He could never bring himself to care. You’re dead so how could it matter? I can’t write but Cedric loved you in a way no one has ever loved a woman, another person. I can’t write but Cedric can’t breathe when he wakes up in the morning and remembers that he’ll only see your smile in old pictures. I can’t write but Cedric can’t move from his bed on summer days when no one’s home and they won’t know he spent all day staring at his wall.
He’s memorized every crack every splinter every bit of paint that dried over a lump in the wall. He knows it all. It’s been three hundred seventy-nine days since he watched you leave to explore the underworld and he doesn’t know how long he has to wait to see you again but he’ll wait all day for his copilot, his love, his only darling and his once future wife, now permanent memory.
He aches and aches and aches over the thought of your life being permanently removed from the world, like the world removing all the birds singing or the wind’s soft call. It’s not a world worth living in to him. Still he does. For your sake because if you’re anywhere where you can still see him, you’ll kill him again if he lets himself do nothing but weep and cry and wait and wait and wait and he’ll wait every day for an eternity if it means he’ll get to see you again for even five seconds because Merlin he loved you and he can’t imagine how he’ll do this without you.
Come back for him, he prays every night, wondering if you’ll even be there when he gets back, if you’ll have waited for him to explore the craggy mountains and deep oceans of grief. He’s left to explore everything alone, doesn’t even try to find someone else to help him through this. No one else could ever be a partner like you.
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                                                          • Cedric’s hand is in yours and his smile is honey sweet and beautiful and you can’t imagine being anywhere but next to him, next to this boy you’ve loved since your fourth year when you worked up the nerve to say it to him, to tell him and when you’d worried your heart would burst when he said it back with a sugar smile and an ocean’s worth of love and you know there’s no way you could leave him no never he’s your one forever.
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                                              Dean Winchester
Dean flips the phone shut, running a hand over his face before grabbing his jacket and a gun.
“Dean?” Sam questions from where he lays in bed, laptop balanced on his knees.
“I’m going out.”
“Where?”
“To find her.”
Sam scoffs. “Dean, you drove all night. You need to sleep.”
Dean shakes his head, sliding his arms into a green coat. “I can’t sleep. I need her.”
“She’s five hours away. You can’t seriously plan to see her.”
“Listen, Sammy, you can stay here or you can come with. Either way, I’m going to find her.”
Sam rolls his eyes but clicks the laptop shut. “Give me a minute to pack and I’ll be out. You know,” he says, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, “some people may call this love.”
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                                                          • Dean’s scream is a tremendous sound – bounding through the woods and the fields at once, trembling the trees at their roots.
Leaves crunch under his knees – a strange sound, it seems, to Dean, to notice as she bleeds out beside him, her leg already a nasty shade of violet and worsening every minute.
“Please don’t die. Please.” He begs as he grabs her hand, trying to pull her back to consciousness.
Her grip is weak, strength fading quickly as she smiles up at him with blood-soaked teeth. “I would never, my dearest Dean.” And instantly he knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t know what until her neck cracks and flames shoot from her eyes and leak under her fingertips and suddenly she isn’t the one he loves but a demon infested corpse lurching up and reaching for him.
It’s only by Sam’s sure shot and Cas’s quick hand that he’s saved, but his terrified, traumatized screams last long after he’s shaken awake by Jody the next morning.
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                                                          • Death, could it really be bad after so much pain? Dean’s eyes glazed over as Sam shook his body. Sam, Sammy – would he be okay?
The woman nodded. Dean relaxed. His brother knew how to survive. He would move on, find a new partner, maybe even escape.
A sigh left Dean’s lips, and he welcomed death like an old friend.
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                                                 (spy AU)
She’s been shot three times. She took her first bullet in her shoulder, a consequence of getting too cocky in a fight. The second came from an old friend turned enemy. The scar’s still a white blob situated just above her hip bone. The third shot was in her thigh; she earned quite the lecture from her leader for that ‘stunt.’
So when she sees the gun lining up for his chest, she doesn’t think twice.
Dean cusses her name. “What the hell?” He empties his clip into the man shooting back and drops the pistol, falling to his knees next to her. “Fucking hell.”
Blood spills from the bullet hole. “Shit. Sam,” he shouts into the mouthpiece they all wear, “get the extraction ready. And bring Jody.” He presses his hand over the wound, trying desperately to staunch the blood flow. “We’re going to need her.”
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                                              Cullen Rutherford
Cullen swings the little girl up onto his lap at her begging.
“Dada, dad please.”
“Another round of peekaboo?”
She brightens and grins, showing off a missing tooth. “Yes, yes! Peekaboo!”
Cullen sighs but smiles. “Just one round, then dada has to get back to work, angel.”
Her grubby fingers cover her sky blue eyes. “One… two…”
Cullen bounces the knee she’s sitting on. The action earns a shriek of giggles that break apart the word “three.”
“Dada,” she yells, “stop. Enough.” One tiny hand frees itself from the tangle of his lion’s mane armor and lands on his thigh. “Enough. It’s peekaboo time.”
Cullen laughs at his daughter’s solemn expression. “Okay, peekaboo time. Dada’s sorry.”
The little girl’s attention has already drifted away, though, to the woman standing in the doorway, leaning against the threshold.
“Mama!”
Lavellan smiles at the little girl before glancing at Cullen. “How are my two favorite people?”
“We’re playing peekaboo.”
“Oh? Is dada winning?”
“No!”
Cullen lifts an eyebrow. “When’s the last time I won anything around here?”
“You won my heart.”
“I suppose I couldn’t ask for a better prize.”
The moment unfolding between the two of them is interrupted by their daughter as she complains with a long “Ewww.” She leaps from Cullen’s lap. “Mama, dada, let’s play dolls.” She races past Lavellan’s legs and into the next room.
Lavellan shuts the door when her daughter begins laughing the next room over. ‘Uncle Dorian’ can play dolls with her for a few minutes. Just enough time to give her and Cullen a moment of quiet. She strolls across the room to his chair.
“You’re tired of losing games around here?”
He grins, hands landing on the sides of her thighs as she steps in front of him. “It’s a heavy burden to bear.”
“Maybe you should stop throwing games of chess.” She murmurs.
“I don’t know what you mean. You’re clearly much better at the game than I.” 
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                                                          • Cullen didn’t notice the tiny freckles climbing up her nose and dotting over her pale cheeks the first time he met her. No, his focus was drawn to the glow pulsing from her hand.
“What is it?” The mage – no, apostate; Cullen’s hand tightens around the hilt of his sword – shook his head.
“We can’t be sure yet. I need more time to examine the mark.”
Cullen was about to reply, about to push for information, when he heard a guard joke about slummers and elves. Striding forward, the captain pushes the hair back from her ear: pointed. Of course. It would explain her long features and the tattoos looping around her eyes. And the mark. He should’ve know it would be a mage. What else could send demons spilling out of the sky? Elven magic.
He stepped away, eyeing the apostate. A friend of hers? “You’re certain you don’t know?”
“Not yet. I have a few more tests I’d like to perform, but they require a conscious subject.”
“It couldn’t have anything to do with magic?” Cullen asks between grit teeth.
The apostate looked up, eyebrows raised. “Of course it does.”
Cullen paused, then gave one short nod to his men. “Make sure she’s unable to move. When she wakes, move her into the dungeon cells.”
The apostate shook his head. “That isn’t necessary.” He turned toward the guard. “Leave her be.”
“Did you not hear? She’s a mage. She’s a danger to those around her.”
“No she isn’t. The magic doesn’t come from her.”
“The mark –“
“- Is magic, but she’s quite obviously not responsible for it. Tell me, do you see a staff here? No? And when she fought at the tear, was it with spells or two daggers?”
Cullen shook his head. “I don’t trust her. She’ll go in the dungeons.”
“I can’t complete any of my tests if she’s down there.”
“Find a way.”
The apostate sighs. “Must I consult Cassandra?”
“She’s a danger.” He says, voice raised.
“She is our only chance to stop demons from destroying the world.” The apostate retorts, annoyingly calm.
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                                              Alistair Theirin
Alistair nearly falls to pieces when he enters the room and sees her perched on the edge of the giant bed, dotting away tears with a handkerchief. He drops the book on military tactics, leaving it forgotten on the rug so he can rush to her side and wrap an arm around her shoulder. “Love, what is it? What hurts?”
She sobs again, body shuddering, but she manages to shake her head.
“Are you okay? What is it? Dear, please tell me what’s wrong.” He can hear the desperation in his voice, the absolute terror, but he can’t help it as she shudders with another sob and leans into his touch. She could be hurt. “What is it? Is it the ball menu? Because I can have that changed.”
“No, Alistair,” she chokes out, “it has nothing to do with that.”
He wants to make a joke about fighting with the chef, but he’s still on edge, his body tensed and folded instinctively around her, protecting her from every possible physical threat. “What is it?”
But before she can answer, his whole body ices over, frozen by pure terror. He does the math in his head but no, no it can’t be. “You can’t… can’t hear an archdemon in your head, can you? I’m not sure I have another battle in me for at least a month.” He says it like it’s a joke even though he can barely pull in a full breath.
“Oh, no. No, darling. It’s not that.” She drops her hands from her tears, cradling Alistair’s face as she blinks away more tears and takes three deep breaths to chase away the final hiccups plaguing her.
Alistair sucks in a relieved breath and brushes the tears from her cheek with his thumb, anxiety-induced wall melting away under her gaze. “You can tell me, my dear.”
“Alistair, I’m… I’m pregnant.” She says it with an inevitable grin and another round of tears.
Out of everything Alistair had imagined her saying, that never once came into his head. “Pregnant? Are you… are you sure?”
He doesn’t dare get his hopes up, doesn’t dare believe this. Not when this is so impossible, so… so good. Good things don’t happen, not to him.
But she nods, covering her mouth as a choked laugh escapes. “I’ve suspected for a week, but I didn’t want to tell you until I knew. The healers confirmed it today.”
In a daze, Alistair stands, tugging on his wife’s hands. A dad. He’s going to be a dad and have a family.
Tears prick his own eyes. Everything he ever asked for, coming true.
He looks down at his wife, at his beautiful, gorgeous, loving wife who was more than he had ever let himself dream of even knowing, and he cries before pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.
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                                     Original Drabble Series (Spy AU)
He was the newbie once. Freshly recruited straight from New York. He’d always been the wild card there, still was one now, just a controlled one. His first mission with this crew, he’d gone rogue, left a trail of bodies behind just for the hell of it, taken risks that should’ve lost him his life. They hadn’t, but the beating he endured after nearly did.
“Don’t ever do that again, got it? We have enough issues without your fucking around. I pulled strings to get you here. Shape up or get out.”
It took a week for the black eye to heal. He was still here.
Since then, he’d never had so much fun on a mission. Choices are calculated, plans followed, ideas discussed.
But that all changes when he sees her on the ground, eye black, unmoving.
He cocks his pistol and points it straight ahead, taking out three people in only a few seconds. Stealth mission be damned.
Not a single person of the thirty-two in the building survive.
Grey and July help extract her and move her to the team medic. He doesn’t leave her side the entire time.
J enters that night, expression stern, white suit on.
He preps himself for another lecture, one deserved after the PR savior Red had to pay after a news station picked up the story about thirty-two men mysteriously killed at the outskirts of town.
But J just jerks his chin toward where she lays, bruised and unconscious and bloody. “Alive?”
He nods.
J’s lips thin. “You’re in charge of the compound tonight. I have some errands to run. Make sure Grey takes care of the dogs.”
Though he knows, he asks, “Where are you going?”
J adjusts his suit. “I have some business to discuss with a… previous partner.”
“When will you be back?”
J turns, heading for the door. “Depends how cooperative this partner is.”
He turns back to his wife, rage simmering. She’s safe here, and she will be after tonight.
J returns the next afternoon, a new stain marring the jacket of his suit and a newspaper with a headline detailing the murder of another five men in the middle of the night.
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                                                          • “New York, you have the back alley. July, Italy, you cover the rooftops. I’m thinking red brick and nasty wallpaper buildings are best. LA will disarm the systems so J and I can get in. Red, you wait by the front with the minivan. Grey, take the van to a side road five blocks North of here. New York, J, and I will meet you there. Red will pick up LA, and July will take the bus back.”  Wolf sighs, a long hissing noise everyone flinches at as it crackles over their earpieces. “Everyone understand the plan? Yes? All right, no diverging from it. Let’s go.” He tugs the hat low over his eyes and gestures forward with his chin, nudging J into action.
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ohlookitsabi · 8 years ago
Text
Never Ever - bucky Barnes x Reader - Part II
Warnings: Swearing - Mentions of sex - Sex? like the tiniest bit bc i cant - A lame ass attempt at kissing? I guess xD Let me know i’f ive missed anything!
Synopsis: You recall Memories of your time with Bucky in the 40′s.
Part One
Masterlist!
A/N: This took AGES to come out! Im sorry! 
A/N 2: Im Watching Civil war tomorrow [today] so hopefully i should have another part out soon, If you guys want one that is. Let me know! 
Last time. 
After the ‘ Winter Soldier ‘ had gone, you were all Taken into Custody by Shield. You noticed something off with Steve. When he said it, the words you never ever expected to hear.
“ It was Bucky “
Pain flooded through your entire body at the mention of your Ex lovers nickname. He couldn’t be the winter soldier, could he? No, Surely the fall would have killed him - from what you’d been told by Steve, it was way to high for him to have survived. He’s dead. Right? 
You glanced over to Steve, sending him a shape, deadly glare. “ Fucking Bullshit “ You hissed, attempting to cross your arms over your chest, Only to forget about the cuffs currently secured around your wrists. So instead, you opt for a huff, grumbling quietly to yourself before steve speaks up again.
“ It was “ He tells you, looking at you “ I know his face, I swear, I'm not.. Lying to you (Y/N) “ yet all he gets from you is a growl, followed by yet another death Glare. 
Stood on the bridge with Steve. Fury is alive, what a surprise that was. Now, here you stand, head in your hands. Bucky is alive. How? You don’t know. According to steve, he has no recollection of who he is - Himself or steve. He’s working for Hydra - a soldier. Why? You do’t know that either. But it hurts you. The pain you thought you would never feel again, is real, and god, it hurts even more than it did 70 years ago.
You close your eyes, letting out a small sigh, thinking back to the first time you met James. 
It was a simple night at the bar with some of your friends. Sat around a table, a pint glass in hand, laughing along to something one of your friends had said. That was when you spotted him - well, the uniform was the first thing you saw. It fit, perfectly, and my, you couldn’t help but internally moan. Your friends noticed, of course, and instantly started with the teasing. You ignored them, and continued about your night.
Little did you know, Bucky had spotted you to, and after chatting to Steve about you - was planning on talking to you. Everyone knew Bucky wasn’t shy about talking to the ladies - he found it one of the easiest things to do in life, and wearing the uniform helped considerably. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. God, You were just so beautiful.
You were stood at the bar - getting another round of drinks for you and your friends when he finally walked over. He leaned on the bar next to you, which got yout attention. You turned your head towards him, reading to tell him to go away. When you saw the uniform again, your legs twitched, a smile twitching onto your lips. “ Hey Gorgeous “ were the first words he spoke to you, and god, you were putty in his hands from that point on. Well and truly fucked, just from the way he spoke, and the way he looked at you. 
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A smile lifts to your lips at the memory, turning to look around, before sighing to yourself. “ I miss you, Bucky “ you spoke, really to no one in particular, since no one was even around with you.  You closed your eyes yet again. This time, thinking back to the first time Bucky told you he loved you. 
He’d taken you dancing. On the walk back to your apartment. It was cold, and you had his suit jacket slid over your shoulders, leaning on him as your walked because your heels were hurting your feet. Always the gentleman. You’d been dating for 3 months - and it was the happiest three months of your entire existence. You both stopped outside your door, turning around and sliding the jacket from your shoulders, handing it back to the male in front of you. He slid it back on, and smiled at you, thanking you. 
You shook your head at him, thanking him for the amazing night, as usual, and before you know it, your arms are around his neck, his hands placed gently on your waist, your lips pressed together. The kiss is gentle, sweet, just like the man himself - most of the time. You both pull away, foreheads resting against each others, a smile on both of your faces when he whispers it, just enough for you to hear hm. “ I love you “ and your grin only gets wider, you whisper it back ‘ I love you too “ before you bring him in for another kiss, this time is different - full of emotion, passion, and it makes you weak at the knees. 
Just thinking about Bucky’s kisses made you weak. When your eyes are closed, you can still feel the tingle of his lips against your own, and it makes you feel happy, a warm feeling build in your chest, but when you realise that you will probably never feel it again, your heart shatters, and you lose more of your already broken soul. So you close your eyes again, and wait for a memory to surface.
This time, your laid in Bucky’s bed, the sheets pulled up to just under your shoulders. Bucky walks out of the bathroom, dog tags hung around his neck, resting on his bare chest. He sees you awake, and grins at you lazily “ Mornin’ doll “ He walks over to the bed, tossing the sheet back and sliding under, dropping it and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against him and nuzzling his face into your neck. You laugh, sliding your hand into his and entwining your fingers together. “ Mornin’ Handsome “ You purr back sweetly, hearing and feeling him laugh against your neck at the nickname you have for him. 
You twist around in his arms, his face lifting from your neck to look at you. You smile at him, taking your hand and combing it through his short hair. His eyes close, and he hums at the feeling. You smile, and press a soft, short kiss to his lips before hiding your face in his neck this time. and that’s how the two of you stay, for a while at least.
You sniffle, lifting your hand and using your sleeve to dab at the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes. You curse yourself silently for letting memories that are 70 years old effect you in such a way. When you close your eyes again, you remember the last time you saw Bucky. Oh, what a night that was.
Having been out most of the night, the two of you walk into Bucky’s apartment. You fling off your heels before the two of you head upstairs, Bucky stripping from his clothes as he goes. By the time you reach his room, Bucky is wearing his boxers and dog tags. He drops his clothes by his closet and looks at you, laughing as he sees you struggling, almost as if you’re a dog chasing your tail, attempting to get your dress undone. He walks over, sliding his hands over your shoulders and unzipping the dress slowly, his hands sliding back to the straps at the top, to which he lowered, his head lowering and his mouth pressing small kisses to where the straps had once been. You sighed, your muscles and shoulders relaxing visibly. 
You felt him smirk against your skin, his hand releasing the straps and allowing the dress to fall to the floor. You remove yourself from bucky by steeping out of it, bending over to pick the dress up, moving to the chair bucky keeps in his room and hanging it over the back. You turn, smiling and walking over to Bucky once again,. His hands grasp your hips, and he pulls you to him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips - passionate, hungry, and full of love - it makes you weak at the knees, and a moan is ripped from your throat. You cling to him, desperate to feel his hands anywhere you can.
That night is full of passion, need and hunger. Knowing its the last time you’ll see him, feel him for months, you both make the most of it. You hardly sleep, the room alight with heavy breathing, moans and breathy mutters of each others names. You had no idea that it would be the last time you’d ever feel his skin against your own, the last time you’d feel his lips against your soft skin. The last time you’d feel his cock. The Last time you’d feel your Bucky. 
You push yourself from your leaning position, your arms wrapping around yourself. The tears have come back, and now they flow freely, and you silently cry. Bucky was the best thing that ever happened to you - and yet, he’s caused you more pain than anyone ever has. Not on purpose. You look down at the floor, wiping away your tears and regaining composure. You take a deep breath, before you turn and walk away.
No more re living memories. You don’t want to feel the pain of lose anymore. You just want to feel bucky in your arms again.
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